


Cas' Diner

by idratherhaveyou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idratherhaveyou/pseuds/idratherhaveyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A/U Cas owns a diner near Portland, Oregon where a young Jo works.  Dean and Sam stop by while working a job to see how Jo is doing.  There Dean meets Cas and is shocked by his masterpieces of apple pie and burgers.  He falls for Cas quickly but can't stay because what would Dean be without hunting?  How will their relationship develop?  And what will be the consequences of Dean not always being around?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bless Pie, Homeless Shelters, and Boxes

"I can't believe Jo works here," I said, slamming the creaky door of the Impala, shooting Sam a furtive glance. The diner was made completely of old, creaky wood and the sign above the door reading 'Cas' Shack' was flickering on and off.

"It's money, Dean. Just because we've never needed it doesn't mean normal people don't.

"Yeah," I said sarcastically, "But Jo didn't have to work in a crapper like this."

"She did mention the food was good."

"I'm having a hard time believing that."

Sam rolled his eyes at me and kept the door open until I could reach it. A bell clanged as it shut behind us and a sign giving us an order to sit wherever directed us to the nearest booth to the door. I slid heavily into the booth on the opposite side of Sam and saw Jo making her way towards us. I gave a slight wave and a cheeky smile watching her hips sway in her low-slung jeans. Her blond hair was tucked behind her ears and she whipped out a pad of paper and a pen the minute she was done walking.

"We have a cheeseburger with bacon, Dean. How's that sound?"

"Good, Jo. Thanks. How's working here?"

"Doesn't look like much does it?" Jo stated, waving a hand to her surroundings. There were only a couple of dingy booths but you could tell someone had spent time scrubbing them down after every customer came and went. I saw a place that could use a serious makeover, that hadn't cost much to start up, but that was well loved. "But, the owner is an absolute sweetheart and he's totally gorgeous. He's the cook too you know. He literally does everything. All I do is serve food and be a pretty face and he pays me a ton. I would say it's pretty good. Better than living and serving with my mom at the age of twenty-one. I even have my own apartment."

"Sounds great, Jo. Really," Sam interceded with his usual caring smile. "What salads do you have?"

"A caesar, a house, and this cranberry pear thing."

"I'll have the cranberry pear thing."

"Done. Thanks for coming, you guys. It means a lot. Do you have a case nearby?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Just a couple of towns over. Your standard pissed off spirit."

"Well, at least it's not too far out of your way," Jo said before sauntering off and relaying the piece of paper to an extended hand from the back.

"Doesn't look like they get much business," I observed, eyeing the empty tables and the fact that I wasn't even one hundred percent convinced that Jo knew where the menus were.

"No. Which reminds me. You know how that spirit, Helen, commited suicide after killing her husband? This morning the son called me and told me there was an affair. Which is obviously standard and we kind of suspected, but now we have solid proof for motive. The next big question is, was it with multiple women?"

"I like how your mind is working today, Sammy," I grinned up at him and wiggled my eyebrows. I snatched the paper he was reading from his hands to his rather weak complaint and peeked at the articles he'd marked and the words he'd circled.

"Here you guys go," Jo said, placing a frilly salad in front of Sam and a stacked hamburger with steaming hot fries in front of me. "Awesome," I said, smiling up at Jo.

I took a massive bite and moaned as the shock of flavors overwhelmed my mouth. The salty bacon, the sweet onion, the meat juices, and the cheese all blended into what I would call perfection. "And give my compliments to the cook," I managed to choke out through my mouth full of food. Right when the burger went down the pipe, I had a french fry in my mouth. "Just the right amount of salt," I murmured.

Jo shook her head, laughing, and walked away to bang on the counter window between the kitchen and the cash register. A man came from the kitchen, wiping his hands on an apron tied loosely around his waist, and smiled at us. He had shockingly gorgeous blue eyes and a smile that would make the gods, if there were any, to bend their knees.

"How's it taste?"

Sam finished chewing and swallowing a bite of his salad before slapping the chef on the back and nodding, "Very good. And I didn't know salads could actually fall into that category.

I swallowed hurridely and gazed up into his eye's which were twinkling with delight at the fact someone enjoyed his food. "This might be the best burger I've had and I've had a lot of burgers."

"Then I could never recieve a better compliment," he said, bowing slightly at the waist. "I'm glad you are enjoying your meal. I would inform you, however, that I have abzolutely nothing to do right now and would be more than happy to get you started on a dessert maybe or some coffee?"

"Coffee sounds great," Sam replied.

"You wouldn't happen to have apple pie, would you?"

"I just made one this morning. I'll prepare you a piece."

"Could it be, you know, kind of big? I've been going through pie withdrawals lately. Our last few stops have been void of pie. Probably because you pick them all, Sam."

Sam looked offended and the chef politely glanced back and forth between the two of us before ending our conversation. "My name is Cas, by the way. Thank you for the compliments."

"Not a problem, man," I shrugged, "You deserve it." He strolled back into the kitchen and I quickly swiveled over to Sam, "Do you think he'll give me a bigger slice of pie?"

"Not without making you pay for it. He probably needs the money, Dean. Whatever he can get."

I grumbled into my cheeseburger and shot Sam a dark look. "You know what, fine," I argued, "I'll pay extra. I bet you the extra money for my larger peice of pie that he makes a mean pie."

"Fine. Nobody can be good at everything. You're on."

"I'm so winning this one," I murmured.

I inhaled the remainder of my burger and fries only to watch Sam eat and wait patiently to steal his money. Jo came back over with a cup of coffee for Sam and what looked like a quarter of an entire pie on a plate with a dab of ice cream on top. I put my hand over the top and felt the waves of heat emanating from the pie. He'd even warmed it up. In whip cream on the side he'd written, "On the house. Wouldn't want you to end up in the hospital."

"Look Sam," I pointed.

"God, fine Dean. So he's just a really good guy. Doesn't mean the pie is any good. In fact, if he had the time to write out two sentences in whip cream it almost can't be."

I gave Sam a smug smile before taking up my fork and driving it into the pie and a smidge of the ice cream. I slid it in my mouth and savored the crumbly crust, the hint of cinnamon, and the crazy good apples. It might not have been the best apple pie ever but it sure as hell was near the top. "Ah, man, Sammy. You've so lost this one." I shoved the pie in his direction and watched him take a bite and swallow. Much too quickly if you asked me. He probably didn't give himself enough time to enjoy it.

Sam reluctantly reached into his pocket and flung a couple of bucks at me. I laughed, raising my clenched victory fists in the air and hooted. Sam just stared at me like he needed to trade for a different brother. I put those couple of bucks in the center of the table for Jo, along with the money for my meal. Sam followed suit and then we gathered our jackets and hopped out of the booths waving to Jo as we exited one of the best little diner I'd ever been to.

The next day I found myself back at that little diner by myself. Turns out the spirit had been more troublesome than anticipated and Sam was researching other ideas. We'd salted and burned the entirely wrong set of bones. The bastard had killed a child this go around.

I was basically laying on the booth, my mouth slack, wishing I could sleep, when Jo came over and sat across from me.

"Already back, huh?"

"You guys are open late," I observed, glancing up at the clock on the wall reading almost midnight.

"Yeah. Till one. We open at noon though. We kind of just skip the breakfast thing. Tough day?"

"A kid's dead because we torched the wrong son of a bitch. Kind of a big family all with numerous problems. Picked the wrong problem."

"I'll get Cas started on some coffee and some pie then."

"Yeah. That apple pie."

"Sure thing," Jo laughed. She went into the kitchen herself and I could hear Cas and her conversing. It was nice and quite this late at night and I absolutely loved it.

"Dean really likes that apple pie of yours. He's asked for it again. And a cup of coffee. He's had a rough day it sounds like. His job didn't go exactly according to plan. Maybe give him an extra scoop of ice cream or two," she said.

"Sure. So," and there was a pause, "What's he like?"

"Besides being a lump of self-loathing shit, he's loyal, really good at what he does, has a big capacity to love, is honest, and has high expectations of everyone else. When he's hurt he just gets angry and avoids the problem but I love him. He's one of my best friends. And having Dean for a best friend is one of the greatest investments you could ever make."

I smiled, enjoying the compliments. I just pretended there hadn't been any complaints.

"Why's he back here so soon?"

"Must have missed me," Jo laughed.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure that's it," Cas said, laughing in return. It was loud and rambunctious and infectious. I was on the verge of laughing myself and I had no idea why. I hadn't ever heard a laugh like that and I kind of wanted to hear it again. I could hear the clattering of silverware and plates as they ceased talking to prepare the food I didn't need. Jo must have had the plate all loaded up on her hand because I heard Cas say, "Let me take them. Go home and get some sleep Jo. You've been doing an awful lot the past couple of days. I can handle Dean, and I have a feeling this won't be the last time we see him."

"Thanks Cas!" I heard Jo chime in before the clang of a back door and the revving of a car engine. I prepared myself for him to walk out and had an overwhelming desire to make him laugh. I knew I was capable but when he came out in a clingy gray AC/DC shirt and low slung jeans I'd completely forgotten what I was going to say. Or how to even speak English.

"Morning, Dean."

"Yeah, hi. Thanks for the pie."

"Sure," Cas said placing the plate with an equally sized slice to yesterday and an extra scoop of ice cream in front of me and the coffee to the left. "Do you mind if I sit?"

I gestured to the other side and Cas crashed into the booth and relaxed against the back, his chest raised slightly. I stuffed my mouth to the brim with pie and hastily swallowed when Cas began conversation and I knew I was going to have to talk.

"Jo said you had a rough day at work. What happened?"

I shifted my eyes from him and internally cringed. This was the one question I could never answer truthfully. But, for Cas, I wanted to at least get as close to the truth as possible. "My work can be dangerous. It requires a lot of moving around and living in motels. Me and my brother do it together but today was especially dangerous and we lost a child in the process today. A child we were trying to save."

"That's awful, but you can't save everyone, my friend. Stuff happens. I'm sure everyone involved appreciated that you tried."

"So," I began, changing subjects, "Why'd you pick all the way out in the boonies to open this place?"

"I've always loved to cook but I wanted it to also be a place where people could just hang out and read or think. And I wanted it to have booths because I wanted it to feel like a diner. I've always liked diners because they're so casual. So when I saw this place I knew it was the perfect size and just right for what I wanted to pull off. And I honestly didn't want a lot of people coming through. I wanted the small town feel of loyalty, knowing someone's order before they even come in, and keeping their seat open for them because you're so sure what time they'll come. I wanted a family, a home away from home."

I was surprised how much thought he'd actually put in. I figured it had been a money thing or a location thing, but I realized this guy could've been anywhere, serving anything, with any sort of customer. He just decided to follow his dream. I took another bite of pie and quietly moaned at the taste of the cold ice cream and the warm pie melding together. I gave Cas a thumbs up before shoving another bite home. A small half-smile crept on his face and he nodded respectfully at me. He let me finish eating in silence and I was just glad for the companionship. I barely knew him but I thought he was running this place exactly as he wished. I felt like I was home with a good friend just sitting in silence because we both already know everything we want to say. And it's just better left unsaid.

When I was finished, Cas stood clearing my plate and taking it back into the kitchen. I heard him washing the dish off and the clank of it entering the dishwasher before he came back out, wringing his hands delicately. He was nervous about something.

"I don't want to bother you, Dean, but do you think you could help me with something? If you can't it's no trouble."

"Of course I can. Anything you need."

"I see what Jo means about you. That one has got you all figured out. Did you guys date or something?" he asked me as I followed him back into the kitchen.

"Nah. She's basically my little sister."

"Okay," Cas said, taking a commanding tone, "Can you grab those cardboard boxes next to the door and bring them over to me?" I nodded and bent over, picking up a stack of five boxes and setting them on the plain counter beside a line of sinks. Everything was pristinely clean and Cas had set to work wrapping up pies, sandwiches, and various other food items he had on the menu. He pulled out a box from the stack and began piling the food in item by item until four of the boxes were full. I kind of just stood there focusing on his hands moving back and forth. There was a tiny mole on the inside of his thumb and I smiled gently. Then I looked up to watch his face. His eyes flitted back and forth between the food and the boxes and his lips were pursed seriously. He was so focused on the task at hand.

"Cas," I whispered, "Do you need me to do anything else or should I just go?" jerking my thumb back towards the exit.

"Oh, god, sorry. I kind of forgot you were here."

"I figured."

"No, stay, I still need you. Can you carry the full boxes out the back door there and to the blue car? The door should be unlocked. Just pile them in the back seat."

"Sure thing." I picked up the first one, jilting it up slightly so I could get underneath it better and I used my back to open the door. Cas gave me one of his half smiles when he noticed me staring at him on the way out. I opened the car door, stuck the box in and came back for more until every box was somehow stuffed in the back seats. Cas jangled the keys at me when I popped in to check in one last time before I left.

"Going somewhere?" he teased.

"Back to the motel?" I posed as a question.

"Come with me. I could use someone to unload the boxes as well. It's later than normal. They probably don't have someone there who wants to help."

"Where?"

"I drop off the leftovers from the day's work at a homeless shelter not to far down the road. I made a deal with the person who runs the place to keep someone there until two so I can make drop offs."

"That's...nice of you."

"It's no trouble really. What else am I going to do with the food?" I shrugged, pretty sure if I was running this place I would just eat it all or not go to all the extra work and just toss it. This guy was incredible. A saint. I got into the shotgun seat of the car as Cas started it up and drove us just a block or two down the street and pulled into an angle parking spot just inside an alley. Cas got out, slamming the door behind him and gestured for me to walk around to his side of the car. He grabbed a box and set it in my arms.

"Can you carry three?"

"Psh...yeah," I said confidently. Cas piled the food on my arms and by the time he was done all I could see and smell was cardboard. I stumbled around, peering around the boxes as best I could to see Cas' feet. I could hear him laughing and tease, "Have too much to drink tonight, Dean?"

"This is harder than I thought it would be," I admitted grudgingly. I heard a door creak open and Cas held it open for me with his back so I would walk through first. He followed and pitter patter from a pair of feet rushed just in front of me and took two of the boxes off of my hands.

"Oh, you're new," a pretty girl shrieked, practically dropping what she had. "Where's Cas?"

"Just behind me," I said. Cas dropped of his food on the desk, wiped his hands on his jeans and smiled at the girl. "Hey Kate. I didn't know you would be here tonight? I thought you were just Thursdays."

"I'm covering for someone," she smiled shyly up at Cas. "This is more food than usual," she observed.

"I had some extra time to cook today."

"Business that good, huh?"

"It wasn't that. I was just feeling inspired," he smiled.

"Well it looks good. The homeless people of Portland thank you as usual."

"Tomorrow is Thursday, isn't it? I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya Cas," she said, waving almost dramatically.

"Wow," I drew out in a long breath as we left the homeless shelter. "She is totally into you. I bet you money she begged to take that shift. And she'll probably keep begging. I can see why. Handsome guy who can cook, is politely sweet, and drops off food at a homeless shelter every night."

"No she's not," he laughed off shakily.

"Seriously, man!" I smiled, "How dense can you be? She couldn't keep her eyes off of you."

"Well, I'm not interested."

"Not your type?"

"No."

"What is your type?" I asked curiously.

"I am fond of brunettes and green or blue eyes. Someone who is sturdily built, and..." he trailed off.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just felt kind of silly saying all that. I'm sure she's a lovely girl, I just don't feel like dating right now."

"Alright," I said, raising my hands in the air, "No need to get defensive."

We were back in Cas' car and he glanced over at me before starting the car. "How long are you going to be here, Dean?"

"My job is turning out to be a bigger son of a bitch than anticipated. A couple more days at least. Why? Need the company?" I teased.

"Honestly? Yeah, probably. The only problem with just moving to the boonies is you don't really know anybody and there aren't many people to know. You've been a refreshing addition to my life in the last two days, Dean."

"You're not all that bad either," I grinned as we pulled into the diner. I got out of the car with Cas and waved as I got into my Impala to drive back to Sam who was probably worried about me at this point. I'd been gone longer than I'd thought I would be. Cas waved back and said, "See you tomorrow?"

"I think that's pretty safe to say. I love me some pie," I shouted back before driving away, window open, and old rock music blasting with a smile on my face.

Sam was waiting up for me, not that he slept much anyways, and shot me a disapproving look when I entered our room.

"Where have you been? It does not take that long to eat a piece of pie."

"I got talking to the owner, Cas, and then he needed some help taking extra food down to the homeless shelter."

Sam nodded, and I crashed on one of the beds, inserting a quarter into the magic fingers and laid there in peace. Sam kept giving me discomforting looks to the point where I got up off of my magic fingers and slammed his computer closed and slipped it underneath my shirt before lying down on my stomach on top of it.

"Dean!" Sam groaned, "Seriously?"

"You're being mean to the magic fingers."

Sam rolled his eyes and got into bed. "Whatever, man. Night." And the big guy was out. I hadn't been able to do that since I'd gotten out of hell. I was actually up most of the night, scanning Sam's computer for what he had found out about the spirit and thinking about the new friend I'd made. I had no idea why, he wasn't that great or anything. But I smiled when remembering his laugh.

"So what's the story?" I asked Sam when I'd taken a shower, brushed my teeth, and eaten some leftover doughnuts that Sam had bought last night.

"Well, there are two more girls who killed themselves in the exact same way as their mother and grandmother, who we've already torched. But it's really weird. That does not happen. They had to have been murdered man. The people they're killing must be part of the murder's family or something. That's the only thing I can come up with and we might be dealing with multiple spirits too."

"Can't we just torch the other two girls?"

"Yeah. We can. I just don't know if it'll be over. This family was really really screwed up. I can't find a single year where there wasn't some tragedy. Luckily they had millions of cousins."

"Lucky?" I said sarcastically.

"I was just trying to find a silver lining," Sam sighed.

"There isn't one. Let's go to the diner, figure out where those two are buried, and after we have lunch go salt and burn those suckers. And then see what happens. What else can we do?"

"Yeah, alright. Haven't you had enough of that place yet?"

"Hell no. Why don't you drive?" I tossed Sam the keys to my baby and got in shotgun. Sam fiddled with the radio until it was on some country song sang by some blond bumpkin, I'm sure. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." I paused, shocked. That sounded a lot like me. Sam was smiling slyly and I shook my head. I must've said that once upon a time. And for once I didn't have a good come back because he was using my logic.

We pulled in, and I was frowning, pretty sure everyone, meaning the two cars parked and Cas and Jo could hear the music. So embarrassing. "Dude, turn that crap off!" I shouted.

Sam pushed the dial, laughing, and we got out of the car. I slammed the car door, patted baby and said sorry, before strolling in. Jo saw us and waved but didn't come over. There was a couple and a group of four seated in two other booths enjoying a nice hot lunch. They weren't talking, so it must've been good. I saw that our booth was empty, which was strange because it had a view of the kitchen and was closest to the waiter and the door. Then I saw why. On the table was a little nameplate that said reserved for Sam and Dean and someone had left a folded piece of notebook paper on the table labeled with my name in scribbled writing. Sam reached for it, but I snatched it from underneath his arm glaring at him. "That's mine."

"Okay, psycho. I was just gonna hand it to you."

"Sure you were," I mumbled to myself. Jo was over in a jiffy, took our orders, and directed Sam to a bathroom when he asked. I watched him go back to the bathroom and close the door behind him before I unraveled the note. It was from Cas.

Dean,

Thanks for helping me last night. I know you like this booth, thought I'd make it exclusively yours for the duration of your stay. Anything you want it's yours. At least, what I'm capable of giving. You were great company last night, it's the least I can do.

Cas

P.S. I'm glad it was you, and not Sam. I'll see you soon.

And sure enough, the moment I was done reading, most likely with a ridiculous grin on my face, Cas was standing in front of me with our orders. He set them down with some silverware.

"You've got business today."

"Yeah," Cas replied, glancing around his diner, "Lunch time is usually pretty busy actually. People driving through to somewhere else stop to get something a lot of the time."

"Pretty sublime timing," I observed.

"Maybe I was watching you so I could time my entrance perfectly."

I laughed and slapped Cas on the shoulder. It was a little awkward because I was sitting and he was standing but he seemed to take it just fine. Sam came back shooting looks between the two of us before taking his seat. Cas smiled at him before giving Sam his silverware as well and then walked away to see how his other customers were doing. I kept my gaze on his retreating figure, and he must've known because he looked back over his shoulder at me and winked.

Sam waved his hand in front of my face and I snapped to attention with a scowl on my face. His expression was hard to read but it seemed to be slightly confused, surprised, and happy at the same time.

"What are you looking at?"

"Not sure."

We were both silent for a moment before I cleared my throat, took a bite of my burger, and motioned down to the stack of papers Sam to the left of his food. "Where are they buried?" I grumbled through the food I was currently chewing.

"One is in the cemetery in the middle of town, the other is in a cemetery about a half-hour away."

"Ugh, why so far?"

"Dean. We drive all across the country twenty four seven. What's a half hour?"

"A long fucking time. I mean, didn't she live here too?"

"Yeah, but she had a husband that drowned. She wanted to be buried with him apparently and that's where he is."

"That's just creepy."

"Being buried next to someone you love?"

"Yeah," I said, "It just makes my insides uncomfortable."

"Well, it's entirely normal."

I shrugged and finished up my burger as Sam ate his fresh fruit and chicken sandwich and flipped through other papers trying to find a map of the cemeteries so we could find the plot quickly. Jo came over not much longer with the bill, which Sam paid this time around and we were out of there. I wanted to say good bye to Cas, but I thought it might look odd. Sam had done quite enough teasing already.

Sam directed me to the cemetery that was a ways away, more than a half hour, he'd lied to me, and when we got out with our shovels, gasoline, salt, and lighter, he led me to her plot. We both started digging and as Sam wiped sweat from his brow he paused in his work. "So what's up with you and Cas?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, "We're just friends. He's a good guy."

"Yeah. Dean, you don't make friends that fast."

"There's always a first time for everything, Sam."

"Alright," he shrugged. "Don't say I didn't tell you so when it becomes something different."

"Like what?"

"Nothing, Dean. Keep digging."

"You keep digging."

We got to the bottom, I smashed in the coffin, lifted myself out of the massive hole and watched Sam salt and gasoline the corpse before I threw a lighter in. We stayed until the fire was practically out and then put the grave back to it's original state.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"We wait. Let's head back to the motel."

"Yeah."

I was watching some old tv land reruns while Sam was listening to the police news, waiting to see if there were any other strange deaths involving slit throats that bled out the victim and then closed up an hour after death. That was the pattern anyways. So far, there was nothing, which I liked to think was a good sign.

"I'm gonna go wipe down baby. Holler if you need anything."

"Admit it, Dean. You just want to drive away to that diner."

"Yeah, I kind of do. I haven't had my apple pie today!" I cried. "But I'm not gonna leave you hear all by yourself. What if you fall asleep and miss something? What if something actually happens? You need me."

"No I don't Dean," Sam replied, smiling. "Go get that pie. I'll be fine. Enjoy it for me will you?"

"Done," I grinned, grabbing my keys and racing out of there. "Call if you need me, Sammy."

"Yeah."

When I got to the diner, around the same time as yesterday I found nobody in sight. But at my booth, there was a quarter of a pie slice of apple deliciousness with two scoops of ice cream melting in waterfalls down to the plate. Spelled in whip cream on the side, like the first time, were the words 'for dean.' The pie was still warm. He knew when I was coming. Somehow. I hadn't even known.

I sat down and dug in. When the bell on the door chimed, I swiveled around to see Cas stroll in carrying two grocery bags full of food.

"Hey Dean. I got some more in the car. It's out front right now. Wanna grab the last two bags?"

I left my pie and got the remaining two bags from the car that smelled as though it was newly vacuumed. Cas really liked being clean apparently. I brought them back into the kitchen where Cas was unloading the bags and putting the food away in fridges and cabinets. I unloaded my bags but left the food on the counter because I wasn't sure where they want.

"Ask me. I can direct you."

"Okay, um, where does the spinach go?"

"Second fridge, left drawer."

I walked over there and we started a sort of routine. He would pause whatever he was doing to give me new directions to whatever area of the kitchen and I would put it away while he was finishing up his bags. We bumped into each other a couple of times, laughing it off, and once or twice our fingers met when handing off food. I normally didn't notice that sort of thing, but I did now. His fingers were so gentle and warm. I decided then that hands could tell you a lot about a person. His hands told me he was unfailingly kind, caring, and a hard worker.

"You should probably go finish your pie, Dean," Cas said when he was about done putting away the food. "It's getting cold and I can handle the rest."

"My pie!" I shrieked like a little girl, and ran off before the ice cream made the crust too soggy. I shoveled the remainder of it home in a disgustingly short amount of time and my stomach suddenly felt cramped. There wasn't enough room for all that pie.

"Ugh," I groaned when Cas sat down across from me.

"You should take breaths before you take another bite."

"Clearly, smart ass."

Cas smirked. Jo suddenly appeared from god knows where with a milkshake and some french fries which she set in front of Cas.

"Where'd those come from?" I asked.

"Jo went to McDonald's for me," Cas replied as he dipped a french fry into his chocolate milkshake. "I can't even stand my own french fries compared to McDonald's. Probably because the deep fry them more than once or something."

"It's the salt. Put enough salt on, any french fry can taste like a McDonald's french fry. Trust me."

"Good to know."

I rested my chin on my hand and practically fell asleep while watching Cas eat. It wasn't particularly exciting and I wouldn't have minded some. As though he could read my min, Cas shoved over the canister of french fries towards me and nodded. I tugged out a super long fry and paused. Some milkshake would be nice. Cas laughed and gestured to the shake. "Be my guest, Dean."

"Thanks, man."

"Don't you two look like the happy couple," Jo stated, with her hands in a sort of picture frame that she was peering through. I could feel heat reach my cheeks. The blush must have been intolerably bright, because my skin was that hot. Cas just smiled like he knew something I didn't.

I watched as his eyes traveled down to the surface of the table as he chowed on another fry and I kept my eyes on him. I couldn't look away. I didn't know when I started becoming extremely aware of all the parts of my body but I was now. Cas gazed up from under his eyelashes and I couldn't escape the swimming blue depths of those eyes. It wasn't just his eyes either. I wouldn't be able to escape him. Everything about him. The fact that he already knew me well enough to predict what time I would arrive and what i would order. That I would even come at all for that matter. And the fact that every moment I spent with him I was happy. I hadn't ever met anybody who could do that.

"What's going on, Cas?" I whispered, our eyes still locked.

"It's this little thing that you've obviously never dealt with that has been immortalized in countless songs, movies, and art pieces. You're falling in love, Dean."

"Sounds kind of cocky to me," I laughed nervously.

"Oh," Cas feigned surprise, "I meant Jo. She is gorgeous and a strong, independent woman after all."

I began laughing and all the tension and awkwardness dissipated as I heard that infectious laugh join in. Cas' eyes were sparkling and in them I could see all the moments we'd shared in the past couple of days. Maybe he was right.

"I should probably head out," I sighed.

"Are you still going to be around tomorrow?"

"I don't know," I whispered, shaking my head.

"Stop by before you leave if you are in fact leaving tomorrow?"

"You got it."

"Later then."

"Awesome," I grinned and I drove back to Sam. The report was dreadfully vacant. I mean, it was great because our job was probably finished but we'd be on our way to our next one soon. Sam would probably have one in the morning when I woke up.

And sure enough, he did. Some case involving missing people all disappearing from the same bar, but with different escorts. Sometimes it was a woman, sometimes a man, and sometimes witnesses swore it was giant animal. Even a unicorn. And it was hundreds of miles from here.

I packed up all my bags, put them in the back of my baby along with Sam's and we were off. I gave him the keys to drive because I wasn't entirely up for it. I was empty. Empty like I'd felt when Dad had given himself up for me.

"Hey, Sammy," I began, "We need to make a stop."

Sam nodded, already knowing where and pulled into the diner for the last time, at least for a while. I got out, but Sam stayed. He didn't move an inch, just turned up the music a tad. I wrapped on the window and said, "Don't want to say good bye to Jo?"

"Nah. Give her my best wishes."

I rolled my eyes, completely mystified as to why he was still in the car like a complete prick and strolled in, the bell jangling. That bell that I'd first thought was completely cheesy now sounded out the feeling of coming home. The best sound in the world as far as I was concerned. Except for maybe baby starting up.

Jo's eyes met mine from across the diner where she was helping a customer. She finished quickly with them and then made her way over.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" she smiled sadly.

"Yeah," I said, putting my hands in my pockets, "Sam found a case in New Mexico that we're heading to now."

"It was good seeing you again, Dean. Don't be a stranger," she whispered before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me close. I could feel her rapid breaths in my ear and she whispered, "Cas is too busy right now. I can go tell him, but I don't think he'll come out." I stared at all the occupied booths and the added makeshift tables that hadn't been there yesterday. I hadn't even realized, but they were seriously busy.

"Whatever you can do."

She nodded and sashayed away, stopping at some tables along the way before disappearing behind the door into Cas' place. His nest. His home. And then Jo was back, without Cas and much too soon.

She shook her head at me and sighed. In her hand was another folded piece of notebook paper and she handed it to me. "He can't come. He almost burned the eggs just at the thought of you leaving. But he had this ready just in case. He wanted me to give it to you."

"Thanks Jo. And tell Cas...tell him..." But I couldn't finish the sentence. There were too many words.

"Yeah, I know. I'll tell him."

I returned her hug and somberly marched out of the diner back towards the car and Sam who had a similar expression to Jo's. I guess everyone but me, until late last night, had known what was going on.

"Do you want to stay?" Sam whispered when I was back in the car.

"No," I exhaled sharply, before forcing on a smile. "We have some evil sons of bitches to gank." I kept my eyes focused on the road as we drove into traffic before I dared to peek down at the note resting in my hands. It was labeled in the same handwriting as the first note I'd been given, with the same name. Mine. I slowly unfolded the notebook paper to find quite a significant length of writing. I was going to save this for later, when it hurt a lot more, but I just couldn't resist. I had to know what Cas had written because it was important enough to have written down.

Dean,

I'm already starting to kind of wish I'd told you all of this instead of putting it in this letter, but there just wasn't time and I could tell you were playing catch up.

How long did we know each other? Two, three days? It felt like an eternity that sped by much too fast. Basically, I wanted to tell you that I knew the moment I first saw you Dean. When you were eating one of my burgers like it was butter during a period of rationing. I knew that you were special. And then you came back for more of my pie. And you helped me pack up food and deliver it to the homeless shelter even though I know you had something better to do. At that point I knew I was a goner. I was falling in love with you.

It wasn't news to me. I've never been interested in girls which I, in a very round about way, tried to tell you. But I could tell you are interested in girls and didn't know that there was a guy out there you could ever fall for. Maybe there's more than one, but I like thinking it's just me. You would've fallen only for me.

You're sitting there denying it, I suspect. At least partly. But I'm confident Dean. Whenever our eyes met, you couldn't avert yours. And you blushed constantly. Which is a fact you weren't even aware of, I'm sure. You couldn't stay away. Your excuse was my pie, but Sam, Jo, and I knew better. They both figured out. I just kept wondering until last night how you could be so thick. But you had it figured out last night.

I wish you weren't leaving. Even as I'm writing this note I'm missing you. You were the first thing in a long time Dean that felt comfortable, easy, necessary. You know how I knew you were coming? Almost the exact time? Because I was going crazy. I almost drove out to find you and I knew you'd be going just as insane. So I left you that pie.

I don't know if I love you. It all seems so rushed. But it sure as hell seems like love. And I'm okay with being a romantic comedy if you are.

I know you have no idea when you can see me again. And I know you have to go. I asked Jo a little bit more about your job. She was just as discreet as you, if that helps, but she did tell me it was important. That you were saving the world. And I believe that, whatever it is, because you seem like the type.

But don't stay away because you're scared. Something tells me you're pretty good at facing your fears, so face them Dean. Someone in Oregon cares about you very much and would be heartbroken if he never got to see your face again. Promise me you'll come back for me. I never even got to kiss you. Show you how much I love you. I think I love you, Dean. I've talked myself into it while writing this.

Love,

Cas

P.S. I'm baking you pie right now. And I will be at any moment you read this. I'll always be baking for you.

"Turn around," I choked out, my eyes swelled with tears, that I ashamedly hid from Sam by gazing out the window.

"What?"

"Turn around. Now."

Sam asked no other questions but pulled a u-turn in seconds and we were heading back. It was a tense hour but when we were back at the diner, I flew out, my motivation returned.

"Where is he?" I yelled, when i stormed into the diner. Jo grinned enthusiastically at the sight of me and the customers were all either shocked or slightly frightened. I must've looked angry. I felt strangely angry, which Jo quickly realized and instead of dealing with it herself she just directed me back into the kitchen. Cas was hard at work on an apple pie, just like promised, and his expression was devoid of all emotion.

"How could you write that?" I murmured.

"Dean?" he turned at the sound of my voice, and a silent tear slipped down his cheek as he broke into a smile.

"How could you do that to me? I was just sitting in my car driving away from all this and I read this. I was ready to move on. I was ready to let you go and be mostly okay by the end of it. And then this happened," I said, my voice slowly raising in intensity, as I shook the rumpled letter I'd read it so many times on the way back. "I can't read that and be able to move on. You're right. I have no idea when I can see you. It could be years or minutes. And it isn't fair of you to make me feel this way. It isn't fair, you bastard."

"No. It isn't," Cas replied gently. "But those words couldn't go unsaid Dean. That would've been unfair of you to ask of me. There was no right answer."

I walked at him and continued my rant. "Oh yeah there is. You could have just fucking told me that night when I literally would've done everything you ever asked. Who knows what I would've done then but at least I would've had a decision."

Cas stepped forward so quickly and abruptly to the point where our noses were touching. "But you came back," he whispered. "Which means that none of it really matters, Dean. Because you feel the same way." Then our lips met. My mouth melded with his, our tongues were dueling, and my hands were spreading across every piece of skin I could reach. I had him flush against me with my back at the counter and Cas was working his hands through my hair when Jo banged on the counter.

"We've got work to do, boss," she laughed.

"Right," Cas nodded, breaking up the kiss. His eyes were wild and his lips swollen and a deeper shade of pink. He was breathtaking. I smiled gently and kissed him once more before leaving the kitchen.

"I'm not going anywhere, Cas. Not until we work out what this is, kay? I'll have some pie while you're at it."

Cas saw to all of the customers before leaving them in Jo's hands and wandering over to me with my pie. He had two forks and set it between the two of us. Why did he just assume I was willing to share? When he brought his fork down on my precious piece of pie I stuck mine between his fork's prongs and battled it off.

"I made it. It's at least half mine," Cas argued.

"One sixth."

"One third."

"One fifth."

"One fourth."

"Oh fine," I growled reluctantly letting his fork dig in to the pie. Cas brought it to his mouth, which was still slightly swollen from our kiss. Just thinking about it almost made me drop my fork on the way to it's final resting place.

"So you said we'd figure this out," Cas began. I sighed and gave him a pitying look, not sure either of us were prepared for the conversation to follow. Cas inhaled deeply and said, "So let's figure this out."

"I can't stay," I whispered.

"Your job is that important?"

I nodded wearily and gestured out the window to the car where Sam was waiting. "I probably wasn't even supposed to stay this long, to be honest."

"How often can you come back then?"

"Twice, maybe three times a year? We're all over the country all the time. I've never been at liberty to make social stops before. Not really anyways.

"Dean," Cas murmured. "I really do care about you, but how in the hell are we going to make something like that work?"

"I don't know. But I'm willing to try if you are," I replied honestly.

"Tell me about this job."

"Cas."

"Dean."

"Okay," I declared, "But you asked for it. Just remember that. This is gonna sound kind of crazy but I'm one hundred percent telling you the truth. I hunt the supernatural. Demons, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, you name it and I hunt it. Unless it's not that real that is. Anyways, that's what me and Sammy do. We were raised to kill by my dad when my mother was killed by a demon not long after Sammy was born. We save people's lives, Cas, and I will never give that up. It's who I am. And you know what? I'm damn good at it, too."

"You're serious?" Cas said, the usual expression of absolute horror and disbelief clouding his face.

"Yeah."

Cas didn't say anything for a moment, deep in thought. I could tell because he was spinning a ring he wore on his middle finger over and over again. When he finally met my eyes again his face was surprisingly clear and calm. "Then I believe you. And I understand why you can't stay. That's bigger than anything I came up with while brainstorming possible jobs. You sure as hell didn't strike me as an accountant," he smiled briefly. I tried to return the smile but I was beginning to see just how difficult this sort of thing was.

Cas reached over the table and gripped my hands tight within his. "You're too good to give up on, Dean. Let's try this. But you're going to have to promise me something."

"Anything."

"No hook ups or casual flirtations. You're taken."

"Alright," I sighed, feigning sadness. Cas laughed, thankfully, and gave my hand a squeeze.

"Give me an estimate of when I'll see you again. I'll count down the days."

"Too girly, dude."

"But true."

"Not around me. Not around me," I chanted, cupping my ears with my hands. "I am a man. I am a man. I am a man," I said to myself, drowning Cas out. He reached up and removed my hands with his stunning half-smile.

"I'm aware, Dean. Now stop being a baby."

I mellowed substantially. "There's no such thing. I don't know when I won't have a case or when something'll be in the area. But whenever I have the opportunity I'm here, okay? And you can always call me. I never desert my phone." I flipped his hand over to his palm and wrote my number down with a pan from my jacket pocket.

"I have to go," I murmured, biting my lip. I couldn't look at him as I slid out of the booth, leaving some money, and making for the door.

"Dean," Cas said, chasing after me. "That is not how you say goodbye." And in front of every person in the restaurant he kissed me gently before wrapping me in a clenched embrace. I faintly heard people clapping but this didn't feel like a celebration. It felt like a funeral. He put his lips against my ear and whispered, "Do you know what motel you'll be staying in?"

"Yeah, I think Sam booked a week at the Inn of the Five Graces. What kind of name is that?"

"A unique one."

"I'll see you around, Cas."

"And I'll be seeing you." I strolled out the diner forcing myself not to look back until I was in the car so Sam could restrain me when I tried to go back to him. I wrenched open the passenger door, climbed in, and finally looked back through my windshield at him. He was still in the booth I just left and when our eyes met he shot me a sweet smile that didn't meet his eyes. A single tear cascaded down my cheek which I almost instantaneously wiped away with the back of my hand before glancing over at Sam and telling him to just drive. A waved lethargically at Cas as we pulled out and he just raised his hand like he was in the movie Pocahontas or something. It made me laugh.

"Are you going to be okay, Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam. Stop asking. Just drive." I leaned up against the window and watched the tops of the trees and edge of the sky blur together into a kaleidoscope of color. That was how my brain felt. Everything blurred together until I couldn't tell the difference between up and down, left and right.

Cas didn't call or text or anything all week. I shifted from the bed, to the floor, to against the wall, to inches from the t.v., to slicing every monster in sight, and I hardly bothered to get out of bed or the shower anymore. Sam occasionally asked how my feelings were holding up but I could barely say a word to him unless it was sarcastic or borderline cruel. But, as always, he put up with it like it was nothing. At the end of our stay, when we were packing up to leave, Sam came in with a letter in his hand and a ridiculous grin on his face. He waved it in my face before handing it over. It was in Cas' handwriting. I wanted to read it in the comforts of home so I waited until Sam was driving away from the cheesy motel, we should've known by the name, before I slit open the letter and opened a creased sheet of notebook paper. Apparently that was a thing with him. What was wrong with a simple piece of printer paper?

September 7th

Dean,

It's only been a week. I hardly even remember it to be honest. Though I think Jo did most of the work. It was especially hard when I saw Katie at the homeless shelter, and you were right she's totally into me. She tried to make a move, but anyways when I told her I wasn't available the first thing she asked was where my friend from a couple of nights ago was. I couldn't answer her. I couldn't because it meant thinking about the fact that it wasn't just going to be weeks but months until I see you.

Sorry about not calling you. I want to hear your voice so badly but I'm afraid if I do that I won't be able to go a minute without it. So I decided we should write letters. I'm going to attempt and explain why with diving into the realm of 'girly' as you so astutely put it, but I have a feeling I won't succeed. Our relationship was a whirlwind of feelings and it reminded me a lot of the classic Romeo and Juliet or Sleeping Beauty. The romances that were epic and deep after mere days. And they wrote long love letters, so I thought that would be most appropriate for our relationship. If you disagree give me a call. I would never ignore you. But if you're willing to jump on board send me a letter in return and make sure at the end to tell me the location of the next motel you are staying at. It will require planning ahead but I think it'll be worth it.

Needless to say I miss you like crazy. So does Jo. I think she was really happy to see a familiar face around here. But it's gone pretty much back to normal. Business is the same as usual. I remember the morning I woke up after you left I was so sure business was going to be booming. That you leaving was price enough for some sort of miracle but alas it is not the way it turned out.

I keep replaying the kiss. The first one, of course. The terrible, or maybe wonderful thing is, is I know the memory has faded and is not anything close to what the real thing had been like. But every time I watch it in my head I'm smiling and fingering my lips. Whenever Jo notices she laughs and gives me a light shove on the shoulder because I'm doing it all the time. Thankfully she never tires of it. It just reminds me how amazing the real thing will feel when you're back, whenever that is. I'm counting down the days as promised, even though I don't know the destination.

Love,

Cas

P.S. I've always left a postscript. I didn't think the time to stop should be now.

September 8

Cas,

Your idea suits me just fine. It makes you happy so I'm happy. I'm already anticipating your next letter even though I haven't sent this one out yet. We just arrived at a motel in Arizona and the very first thing I did while Sam set to work on research for our case was write this letter. I'm not really the type so when Sam saw what I was doing he literally collapsed to the floor laughing, and called me a girl, and a hopeless romantic. Which are not the words I would choose to describe me. Ever. What have you done to me?

As I said before, this isn't really my thing. Maybe I'll get better at it but I kind of doubt it. I'm not gonna say anything nearly as sweet as you do so forget that too. Writing letters back and forth with me is like doing it with an old crabby grandfather you'd rather forget but that's me and I'm not changing that even for you.

We've just started a wendigo case here and it should go by pretty quick since we've located what we think is it's lair in less than five hours. We already have a case lined up so don't send the next letter here but to a motel in Colorado. Twin Springs.

Sam keeps asking me how I'm doing and between you and me I'm about to punch him senseless until he sees stars. Also between you and me, I'm not doing great. I barely moved when you didn't call me. I miss you too, man. That's probably the nicest thing you'll ever hear from me. Sorry this isn't long or in depth as yours. I just don't know what to say.

Love,

Dean.

P.S. Should postscripts be our thing? I'll add one every letter until the day you stop.

September 12

Dean,

I hope I allowed enough days in between, meaning I got the letter yesterday, noticed the date, and decided I couldn't go even minutes without writing you back. I'm sure it's fine.

One thing I couldn't help laughing at in your letter was the fact that you weren't ever going to be romantic. The I miss you was as good as it was going to get. You know what I thought the most romantic part of that letter was? The words, 'What have you done to me?' I'm glad I've had an effect. My point is, you can't help being romantic, Dean. You've finally found a worthy recipient. I can imagine you now as I right this. You are so giving me the 'why are you so cocky look?' Yes, you have a look for that.

I don't have a lot to talk about as far as my life goes. I have a very set routine in life that hardly ever changes. I get up, cook and bake, serve people until one, sleep for six hours and go at again. I did have a customer today who was just as enthusiastic about my apple pie as you had been. I thought it would cause me pain but to be honest it was refreshing. I was glad that I could still find parts of you in my life even though you weren't here. And along with that, not really related but whatever, I realized we know hardly anything about each other. I mean the fluffy stuff. I already feel like I know your soul, but not the stuff that separates you from everyone else. Care to fill me in? I'll give you an example.

I don't watch much t.v. or movies so I have nothing to say as far as those go. I read a ton. I love mystery and fantasy novels. I will admit my favorites probably include Harry Potter. That woman was a genius. I don't actually like pie, which is funny because I make so much of it. I only ate any of yours the day you left because I knew it would irritate you. I do love italian food though. Of any kind. I've traveled all over the world. That's what I was doing before I owned this little restaurant. My favorite place was by far Austria or New Zealand though. They are so peaceful and beautiful with rich unique histories that most people know nothing about and I like that about them. My favorite color is green, similar to the color of your eyes actually. Although, I'm not sure if that's just a recent thing. I'd never really been aware of shade before, I don't think.

Love,

Cas

P.S. I am so not trying to be kinky or anything, but I can't seem to stop thinking about your body on top of mine, your hands in my hair, your lips on my neck. And I don't even know how that's possible because I never even got to experience it.

September 20,

Cas,

Kinky's right up my alley. I can understand that so feel free. Sorry it's been a while I've been busy. Still miss you.

I've always enjoyed eating pie, that wasn't just yours. I have a 1967 Chevrolet Impala that I nicknamed Baby. It's kind of me and Sammy's home since we don't actually have one. I'm usually the only one that drives it but occasionally I let Sam have a go. I listen to old classic rock and that's it. I wear my dad's leather jacket, keep his journal close, as well as his phone, and think about him all the time. Since he died I've realized that I didn't deserve everything he put on me. He told me all about those monsters and taught me how to shoot a gun instead of how to kick a soccer ball. He tried to let Sam have a normal childhood, but not me. I was supposed to protect Sam. I kind of followed every order he every gave me because that's what being a good son is about. I don't regret any of that, sometimes I just wish he'd realized maybe I need a childhood too.

I would do anything for Sammy. He's kind of what my world revolves around now. I still work to keep him safe because he's all I've got left. I can't lose him.

That's kind of my life in a nutshell to be honest. All I've known is hunting and family and that's about all in my life worth talking about. Not nearly as exciting as yours, I'm afraid.

I just reread your letter while writing this because I had no idea what else to say and I realized that your probably thinking you're way more invested in this than me. I'd just like to say the fact that I'm writing this letter proves I might be more invested than you even though I'll never say half the things you do.

Love,

Dean

P.S. Twin Falls, Montana

We managed to keep those letters up for months and months until the day Sam pointed at an article in the paper and said, "It's your lucky day, Dean. There's one in Oregon."

I would get to see him. There was no need to write a full length letter. Instead I wrote:

Cas,

We've got a case in Oregon. I'm coming to see you. I'll be there before you know it.

Love,

Dean

P.S. I'm so fucking excited. I love you.

We stopped at a post office in Georgia before beginning the thousand mile drive to Oregon. I knew that there were cases we could finish in between the drive. Sam didn't have to tell me that. But he realized how much I needed this and there was no way he was going to make me stop. On the drive over, I was blasting some rock music, singing along, pounding my hand on the steering wheel, and I couldn't stop glancing down at the stack of letters underneath the cassette player that had been gathering for months now instead of checking the speedometer to see how fast I was going. Every once and a while Sam would peek at it for me and remind me to slow down.

"Why?" I asked. "Why would I slow down?"

"Look at it this way," Sam sighed. "Cas needs time to get that letter. You don't want it to be a surprise. You want him to be just as excited as you, right? If you drive too fast we might get there too early."

"You're so full of bullshit."

Sam shrugged and I reluctantly slowed so that I was only going fifteen miles over the speed limit. Sam gave me one of his classic bitch faces, so obviously it wasn't good enough for him but I didn't care all that much.

The drive couldn't have gone any slower but eventually the flickering red sign came into view and I could feel my heart pick up it's pace tenfold. I was smiling already and so was Sam. I hadn't realized until that moment that Sam cared that much about my happiness or even payed that much attention to how I was feeling.

The gravel crackled underneath my tires as I parked haphazardly in one of the six spots. Cas had gotten around to spray painting makeshift white lines in the gravel for parking spaces. Besides that, the diner hadn't changed a bit, and I loved that. It had been months now and he'd kept it the exact same. Even the customer flow was no different. Only two other cars were there and one of them I recognized. He must've become a regular.

"Which are you more excited for Dean, the pie or Cas?"

"You even have to ask that?" I teased, "Obviously the pie. Do you think our table will be reserved?"

"Normally I would say no, but Cas has had a habit of surprising me. So...yes. I bet it is."

Sure enough, the moment I heard the familiar bell jangle and glanced over at our table there was the same sign as when we left and a notebook paper note resting on the table. Jo glanced behind her shoulder when she heard the bell and ran at me, throwing her arms around my neck. I lifted her up in a hug and a kiss on the cheek before giving her off to Sam's open arms.

"It's good to see you boys, again. Feels like it's been a long time."

"You could say that again," I said as I sunk down into our booth and unfolded the note. The goddamn notebook paper again. I faintly heard Sam and Jo chatting in the background as I devoured the words. They were somewhat minimal this time, which was a surprise. He was the longwinded type.

Dean,

I got your letter, so I reserved the table the moment after. I'm back in the kitchen as you would expect. I'll come deliver your food, because it's killing me already knowing you're sitting out there and I haven't seen you yet. I just have one request. Let's at least try to remain semi-professional.

Love,

Cas

I chuckled lightly at his last comment, before pocketing the letter and watching Sam's long, gangly body to fit into the booth. It was quite a process sometimes.

"What can I do for you guys?" Jo asked.

"I think a burger sounds good," Sam replied.

"I'm not really hungry. Just say hi."

"Dean," Sam chastised me. "You haven't eaten all day. For god's sake get something to eat. You'll want it later."

"I'll have a milkshake and some fries, then," I smiled, remembering the milkshake Cas had so kindly shared with me.

"You got it."

"Wait, Jo," I yelled after her, sliding out of the booth and jogging up to her.

"Hang on a sec, Dean." She placed two pieces of paper up on the counter between the kitchen and register, rapped it once to indicate there were orders and I saw his hand. I knew it was his because of that little mole and my heart palpitated.

"What's up?" When I didn't answer she snapped a finger in my face and i jolted out of my stupor.

"Sorry," I said, "I just wanted to ask what he's been like."

"Fine. Given the situation he's holding up really well. There are times when he's cooking where his hands'll stop moving and his gaze will shift up so that he's looking at nothing and I know he's thinking about you. And at least once a week after he's dropped off the food at the homeless shelter he'll come back here and have a couple of shots of tequila by himself. But he doesn't ever crack and whenever one of your letters arrive he won't do anything until he's finished reading. He'll drop anything, too. I've taken to getting to the mail before he can so that I can choose the time he reads it. It's strange," Jo murmured. "You guys barely knew each other but I can tell he really loves you."

"Wait," I said, "Where does he live?" I probably should've known by now but all the letters came to the diner and not his home.

"I know it doesn't look it, but there's a loft above the restaurant so he lives up there. He lives and breaths this place, Dean. I've got to get back to work."

"Yeah, sure." I went back to the booth and to Sam.

"What was all that about?" Sam wondered aloud.

"I just wanted to know how Cas was really holding up. So what's this case we got?" I asked, trying to distract myself. But it wasn't working. I could hardly think straight. He could come through that door at any time.

"Looks like a vampire, actually. Victims drained of blood, bite marks, the whole deal. All the victims are blond, indicating a type, which makes me think it's just one, maybe two. A whole group wouldn't be that picky."

"Any idea where they're holed up?"

"Nope. But, get this, all the vics have been pulled from some bar not far from here. I thought when we're done here, if ever, we'd go check it out. Or I could just go alone."

"No. I'll go with you. Can't have my brother getting eaten."

"I'm not a blond chick, Dean, last time I checked."

"Aren't you?" I said cheekily. "Your hair is certainly long enough. You need a haircut, man."

"And you need to shave."

"Shut up." I shrugged my leather jacket from my shoulders and laid it beside me in the booth. "It's kind of hot," I declared, airing out my shirt beneath my flannel, "Aren't you hot?"

"No."

I guess it was just me, which was entirely plausible if I was being honest.

And then the door wavered slightly before being pushed all the way open and a pair of low slung jeans peeped through the side and he was there. He stopped walking the moment he saw me, our eyes meeting, and just stared, a small smile flitting across his face and his eyes were filled with a love that no one had ever shown me before in my life. I could feel people staring before averting their eyes in embarrassment as though they'd interrupted the most important event in the history of the planet. Which, as far as I concerned, it was. Then he shook his head almost imperceptibly and began walking, both hands laden with our food, his movements fluid and relaxed which was the exact opposite of how I was feeling. I was about to explode.

Cas placed the food in front of us, and as he brought up his hands to wipe them on his apron as always, his hand brushed mine lightly and reassuringly. It just made my hair stand up on end. I stood in a rush and enveloped him in a smothering hug. His arms circled around my waist and I rested my chin on his shoulder. I didn't plan on moving but reluctantly he tugged away and placed one hand on my cheek, his thumb grazing across my stubble. "Not now," he whispered. "I have work to do. Stay?"

"I have to go check out a vampire thing but I'll come back right after."

"Good enough for me."

I wanted to kiss him so badly but he'd already turned his back on me and ambled back to the kitchen. Sam was on the verge of laughing and I shoved against our booth as we headed out of the diner.

"You are such a teenage girl."

"And you're jealous," I shot back as I was sliding into the Impala and starting her up. "Let's go slice and dice some vamps."

"Dean, we're just going to the bar."

"I'm aware."

"Whatever."

"It just sounds cooler, dude," I said. In reality, I'd just been trying to maintain a shred of my pride and manliness.

When we entered the bar there were a couple of your early afternoon drinkers and your suckers who came after a bad day at work, with their ties loose and slouched over the bar. A bartender was drying glasses and stacking them on shelves when we approached him in our suits with our badges.

The gruff bartender nodded curtly before turning back to his work. "What can I do for you guys?"

"There have been three missing persons in this area in the last week and they were all here the day they disappeared and we think they might have all been taken from here. Have you seen anything odd? Odder than normal?" Sam asked.

"Not that I recall. Just the usual drunken men abusing unaware women and dragging them home."

"Has there been a frequent who does that?" I asked.

"Now that you mention it, yeah. Tall, good-looking guy. He always has on a black leather jacket and a winning smile. Doesn't drink anything though but consistently takes a blond chick home with him."

"Anything else you remember about him?"

"His hair was longish and brown I'm pretty sure. No idea about the color of his eyes, though. He had a certain arrogance and every once and a while he looks almost sickly. Really pale. Like he just got off a spinny ride or something."

"Thank you," Sam smiled. We backed away from the bar a ways and Sam nodded. "That's definitely the guy."

"Agreed. How do we find him?"

"I'll stake out the place tonight. See if he stops by. And if he does, I'll follow."

"Sam..."

"Dude, don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. Go have fun with Cas."

"At least drive me back and then take the car," I sighed, knowing there was no hope in winning this one.

"Sure."

When I got back to the diner, business was booming and I collapsed into my booth to wait it out. Jo came over ten-ish minutes later when she had a break and laid a key on the table.

"In the back by the bathroom there's another door. It should be locked and when you open it, there will be a set of stairs. Cas said you could go wait in his apartment if you wanted until he's free. He'll probably need to stay down here but I'll knock when he can chat," Jo stated.

"Thank Cas for me." I swiped the key from the table and followed Jo's directions until I entered one very large room that satisfied many in a normal house. In the center was a wooden table with a couple of candles and chairs on top of a simple green and blue rug. Paintings hung on all the walls. None of them were particularly exciting, but they complimented the room nicely. A large bed was to the left and it was covered in a massive blue quilt. It was actually created out of all possible shades of blue with different patterns on each new fabric. To the right was a beige couch that was definitely old and beaten down judging by the floppiness of the pillows across from a small flatscreen television. And instead of videogame platforms or a massive movie collection there were bookshelf after bookshelf of books on the whole right side of the room. There was a seat by one of the window's with a sort of pillow mat and a hanging light. The room was immaculately clean like the rest of his belongings. I crashed on the couch, lying down and switched on the t.v, flipping through channels. I didn't stay on any one channel for long but it was entertaining enough.

As the light faded and I began to notice when the t.v. changed colors when switching camera views or scenes I heard a knock sound on the door below. I started and rolled off the couch to my knees. I wasn't particularly excited to stand but I did, and stumbled down the stairs, rubbing my eyes to the diner. When I saw Cas he was busy cleaning the counter where the register was positioned and Jo was dangling off one of the bar stools, chatting with someone on the phone. Probably Ellen. I sat beside her and watched Cas work silently. His arms muscles tightened and his shoulders were hunched forward as he was scrubbing. Occasionally he would wipe his forehead to get rid of nonexistent sweat and at the point I could no longer resist. I climbed up onto the counter and swung over to his side before folding him into my arms and gently removing the scrubby pad from his grasp. It didn't take much effort and he returned the hug, his head nestling up into my neck. I faintly heard the bell ring announcing a customer and Cas flinched as he tried to get away but I wasn't letting him escape me this time. "You got that Jo?" I whispered.

She smiled at me and nodded. "In fact, I've got it for the rest of the night." At that Cas managed to wrestle away, glaring at me, and turned to Jo. "I couldn't let you do that."

"Yeah you can. You don't even have to pay me extra. I want to."

"Why in the hell would you want to do that?"

"I care about both you and Dean and clearly you both want some alone time. I'm not stupid and I would be happy to oblige."

"Thank you, Jo," Cas sighed. "Let me know when you're closing up so I can deliver the food."

"Nah, I'll do that too. It's on the way home anyways."

"Jo, I..."

"Cas, shut up. Dean shut him up."

I shook my head at Jo's stubbornness but also winked at her in thanks and swept Cas up in my arms. He was heavy, but not all that bad. He protested and I brought my mouth down on his. He didn't kiss back for a while before reluctantly bringing his hands up and into the fringes of my hair and pulling me closer.

"Thanks Dean," Jo smiled.

"No problem." I carried Cas up the stairs and to the couch in his apartment before setting him down. "Nice place," I said.

"Thanks," Cas whispered. "Are you sure Jo doesn't need..."

"I'm sure, Cas. You don't want to mess with her when she's like this, trust me. Just go with the flow man."

"How'd the vampire search go?"

"Good," I replied matter-of-factly. "We found out that the bastard did in fact frequent the bar Sam had connected to all the victims. He's there now waiting for him so he can figure where to find him when he has me."

"You should be there with him," Cas sighed.

"No, I shouldn't. I deserve this and so do you. Come here." I tugged him over until he was snuggled up against my side on the couch and kissed the top of his head. "Doesn't this feel right to you?" I whispered.

"Of course," Cas relaxed wriggling closer. "I just don't know what to say to you."

"We've been doing plenty of talking. Sometimes there isn't anything to say."

Cas nodded and we sat there, the t.v. on but muted, in silence, watching the images fly by. I hadn't been more happy in my life and I knew Cas felt the same when he passed out with his head on my lap, snoring lightly. I lifted him in my arms for the second time that day and set him on the bed before pulling off his shoes. I thought about undoing his jeans as well, figuring like any sane person he wouldn't want to sleep in them but I wasn't entirely sure I had permission. So instead I tugged the blankets from beneath them and laid them up to his chin. I pulled off my jacket, flannel, and shirt and jeans until I was just in my plain black boxers and slid underneath the covers with him. I pulled him up flush against me wishing desperately that I had been brave enough to slip off those jeans so I could feel some skin. And I fell asleep with my hand against his lower waist and my nose in his sweet-smelling hair.

I woke at four in the morning to Cas shifting back and forth on the verge of waking up himself. When his eyes opened blearily I smiled and kissed his soft lips. Cas smiled, yawning, and turned in my arms to face me. "I could get used to this," he whispered.

"Yeah, me too."

I kissed him again, reaching beneath the sheets and up under his shirt feeling that hot skin I desired. Cas opened his mouth under mine, our tongues meeting and dueling carefully, exploring. I could feel Cas' back muscles rippling as he shifted on top of me, his legs straddling my waist as he continued attacking my mouth. I lifted his shirt off, with his help. His hands traveled down my chest to the seam of my boxers where his fingers played with the edge, dipping below it occasionally. I rolled him over so I was on top and his legs were wrapped around my back. The only problem was his jeans rough, chaffing contact on my skin. I unbuttoned his jeans, broke of our kiss, and slowly removed the fabric trailing my hand down the side of his leg from the end of his boxers to his foot before moving back in for another kiss. My lips were already starting to throb but it didn't matter much. I trailed kisses down the side of his cheek, to his neck where I gave sloppy open mouthed kisses intermingled with closed ones before sweeping back and forth over his collarbone barely making contact. Then I made my way down his chest to his stomach giving soft kisses until I was at the end of skin. I came back up, nibbling his ear gently, before whispering, "What do you think?"

Cas bit my ear gently, gave the lobe a fleeting lick before panting, "I think I've been ready for this my entire life." He flipped back over so he was on top and licked down my neck, interrupting with kisses every once and a while so I was quickly panting along with him, our breaths intermingling. His fingers traveled deliciously down my sides before he slid my boxers down the end of my feet where I kicked them off. He followed with his, his blue eyes meeting mine and I succumbed to him.

"How about a shower?" Cas said, when he got up from bed his body entirely revealed in the light.

"Sure. Just let me enjoy the view."

"Get up."

"Right," I laughed and reached for his hand as he led me to what I had been sure was a closet but really it was just a massive shower with a tiny bit of space for a laundry hamper. Cas threw his clothes in there before bending over and turning on the water. It was soon steaming and we got in. We shampooed each other's hair and scrubbed each other's body clean from the sticky mess we'd made with a bar of soap. It was strangely productive considering that we were both naked.

When we finally got dressed and downstairs, which took much longer than anticipated because I'd realized I was totally up for more sex, Sam was sitting in a booth and Jo was already at work serving people.  
"Oh, god, sorry Jo. This is totally unprofessional."

She ceased what she was doing and turned to cup Cas' face in her hands. "Did you have fun last night? I mean this morning?"

"You heard us?" Cas gasped.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. No one else was here. Did you have fun?"

Cas nodded, his cheeks flushed. I was just smiling at the fact I could make him do that just from a memory.

"Then it doesn't matter. Get to work cooking, though. Customers will be here soon. I just let Sam in because he had nowhere else to go this morning, considering his brother spent the night." Jo gave me a thumbs up as I went over to Sam.

"You make quick work of things, don't you Dean?"

"Life is short, Sammy. Got to take what I can get," I smiled.

"I followed the vamp last night. There's only one, like I said. We take him out this is finished. You probably only get one more night here."

"Meaning I really don't, you're just being nice."

Sam nodded and I groaned. "This sucks."

"Yeah, sorry man. You could always quit you know."

"You know I can't," I sighed, glancing over at Cas who was busy tying his apron around his waist. That same waist I'd handled quite well if you ask me this morning.

"When are you going to tell him?"

"When I'm able."


	2. The Consequences of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two years since Cas and Dean met and their relationship is stronger than ever. But Crowley finds out and makes it his mission to enact some revenge on Dean, now that Dean has a weakness besides Sam.

2 years later...

September 23

Dean,

I was just thinking about three months ago when you took me out for that picnic. It's funny, I thought the moment I would cherish the most would be when you perked up the courage to say I love you without writing it in one of these letters but just today I realized it wasn't. It was when the light slowly faded and we sat together, holding hands, occasionally sharing a kiss, but we didn't talk not once, and watched the sky turn from pink to orange to yellow. I'd never until that moment ever thought I wouldn't have anything to say to you. And I think that's really special and totally underrated. The ability to know what another person is thinking without them telling you. And the even better part is that you were thinking, this couldn't be more amazing and Cas couldn't be more beautiful. Thank you for that.

We have a new regular at the diner, and he's a very nice guy. Kind of gruff and to the point but I've briefly talked to him a couple of times and he isn't anything like that one regular we had who tried to start fights with everybody. Did I tell you I told him to never come back? Well, I did. I know. You're proud of me. You were right, he was kind of a douchebag but I couldn't make myself be unkind to a person until he was hitting on Jo to the point where she begged him to stop. And when he didn't, and slapped her ass coming back to the kitchen, I was finished. Jo should never be treated like that.

Anyways, back to the new customer. He says he knows you. I don't know if that's weird in your profession but it's been really cool because he knows things about you that I even don't. I'm getting all caught up. Although, I admit, I think he's running out of things to say. There isn't a ton I don't know about you anymore.

How's Sam? Last time you guys were here, he seemed kind of distracted. I hope your case is going well and please don't get hurt. Be careful. I know you told me to stop saying that in every letter but ever since you told me what your job entailed down to the bone, I constantly worry about you. It sure as hell isn't safe. So...be careful.

I love you.

Cas

P.S. I, once again, don't have anything to add. I love you. I love you. I love you.

September 29,

Cas,

What's this new customer's name? It seems a tiny bit strange to me, but I do meet plenty of people. You know, police who hate me, peoples lives I save who love me, and then the people in between. And then sometimes the monsters themselves, but I think you would have some idea by now if that were the case. But if you ever see black eyes, or weird smoke, or weird things drawn on the placemat, don't think your hallucinating, and call me. Screw the letter stuff. You're more important than keeping up this tradition. Besides, at some point I'm going to run out of room in my car for these letters. They take up some serious space. Sam's actually getting kind of irritated because most of them go in the passenger seat area these days.

Talking about Sam, he's doing fine. When we were over we had just had a fight. It happens all the time as you know, so he gets over it pretty quick these days. I don't know why he looked particularly distracted. Maybe something else was going on. You know how open we are with each other. But I've tried to do better as you suggested. He ran over a dog a couple of days ago and took it to the vet. It's all fine. He checked in on it like fifteen times but he's still kind of beat up about it. I think it has to be about something else though because he's an animal person, but he's not one of those obsessed save the animals people. I guess I should just ask him. That's what you would say.

You know what I remember about that night? Besides how beautiful you looked of course...I mean I guess...I remember the food. I'll be honest. And so should you. The fact that I cooked all that and it actually tasted good was impressive. Okay I'm mostly kidding. I remember the journal you gave me. That was fabulous. Just like I said then, I haven't written in it, and won't ever. But the fact that you understood all my problems and that sometimes I needed a release and that instead of beating up my car, punching Sammy, or fearlessly and stupidly throwing myself in a fight, you gave me an alternate option. Nobody has ever understood me as well as you do. Especially because the post it note on top said that you knew I would never use it but that it reminded you of me.

As I love you.

Dean

P.S. You made me smile.

October 4

Dean,

I'm sorry this is so brief but I've got to run. You know, I saw a crow this morning. Sorry this is so off topic but it was interesting. It was by itself all alone, hunting. And I thought maybe they would do better as a murder, or a pack, but this one was ruthless. It caught like ten worms in under five minutes and just slurped them down instantly. But then there was one worm who wriggled and fought, losing half of it's body, but it got away, burrowed into the grass where the crow couldn't find it. Those ten worms, who all fought as well, didn't get away but this one did. I would love to be that worm, wouldn't you?

I love you so much, but there's lots of customers right now and I figured there wasn't long until you left the motel you were at. The regular I mentioned earlier just asked if he could help me out. But I said no.

P.S. I love my eggs sunnyside up, don't you?

Cas

"Hey, Sam, do you have a case lined up next?"

"No, not yet. Not much going on in the area, so I was about to start a wider search. Why?"

"Can we stop by the diner? Something's up. And he won't tell me what. I just wish he'd call..."

"Then call him, Dean," Sam sighed, "Stop complaining about it. And I guess we could run by. I'll try and find something close to Oregon. What's up?"

"I don't know," I murmured, peering intently over the letter. "It's his postscript. A, they usually say I love you or he actually has something important to add but he never asks a question and never makes it odd or pointless. In fact, this entire letter seems pointless, which isn't like him. He wouldn't ever waste paper like that. B, he hates his eggs sunny side up, which he also made one word instead of two, and he's always grammatically correct. He likes his eggs hard boiled and completely dead. Void of any liquid. C, he wouldn't have said no to help, no matter who it was. He's too nice, which means it must've been someone really bad. Apparently this regular know us."

"What are you mumbling about Dean?"

"His letter, Sam! He wrote it, but it doesn't sound like him. I think he must be trying to tell me something but is worried our letters are being read or something. I wonder what happened. Why would he think that? I mean, we have powerful enemies, but he doesn't know any of them. He would've brought it up. Unless, the regular is one of our many enemies," I trailed off.

"Call him. I'll drive."

I sifted through my contacts until I found Cas' name and pressed the call button. While my hands had been fumbling for his number I'd really wished I'd placed him on speed dial despite the fact that I had no idea I would ever be calling him.

"Dean?" Cas' voice sounded on the other end. "You called. Why?"

"Cas, what is going on? I just got your letter and I can tell there's something wrong. We are on the way to the diner now unless you can give me a hell of a good reason why you wrote all that."

"I don't know Dean. I hardly remember it was probably a late night."

"You never forget Cas. You know every single little detail about your relationship just like you do about your diner. Because they're the most important things to you. I'm convinced I could ask you anything about our time together and you would know the answer. What aren't you telling me?"

"Dean," he whispered to the point I could barely understand the words he was saying, "That regular I've mentioned a couple of times? I think he might be one of your monsters. He hasn't done anything off, it's just that he's here practically all day every day. I can't shake him and it's starting to creep me out just a bit. I've got to go," Cas said much louder.

"Cas, what the hell? Keep talking to me."

"Dean, I'm sorry. I love you." A muffled screaming woman sounded in the background.

"Ditto, but what the hell is going on? Is that Jo?"

The phone buzzed silent. He had hung up.

"Dammit, Cas!" I shouted, slamming my hand against the window. Sam glanced over but didn't ask or say anything. He knew it wouldn't help. All that mattered was getting to that diner as fast as humanly possible. My real life had finally caught up with my fairytale one and was biting me hard in the ass, leaving it itchy and throbbing. "Drive faster, Sam." My baby's engine revved as we accelerated ten points.

When we pulled into the diner the next morning, sliding over the gravel, parked across three spaces, I jumped out of the car, which Sam was still in the process of putting into park, and ran up the stairs two at a time, before crashing in. Guests were scattered in several booths and they all looked up, some scared half out of their minds. Like they were the ones in my place right now. I ignored them and began a search for a face I recognized to see Jo slipping out of the kitchen loaded with plates.

"Dean?" she said, almost dropping the plates. She quickly unloaded them at the appropriate tables before coming over. I heard Sam come in as well and Jo glanced between the two of us. "What is it?"

"Where's Cas?"

"Interesting you ask. Yesterday he left early, said he had something to do, and he hasn't been back since. He didn't come to work at all today. I thought he might be trying to find you or something. So you don't know where he is either?"

"No," I said frustratedly. "I was talking to him on the phone yesterday and there was a scream? It sounded like you."

"Oh, yeah, that. I dropped a plate and it shattered all over me. I screamed. And I'm kind of embarrassed about that so don't mention it to anyone else."

"So you're running the place by yourself?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. I owe it to the guy. Besides it isn't too difficult. I know most of the recipes by heart and customers aren't picking up or anything. I'm just here all day now. It's a lot of work but Cas is worth it. He wouldn't want his diner abandoned."

"Are you gonna hire somebody?"

"If he doesn't come back soon, yeah. Do you guys have any idea what happened to him?"

"Nothing good," I growled. "It was part of the business. Had to be. I just don't know who. I think I'll go check up above. Sammy, try and find something down here."

"You got it," Sam said, strolling off towards the kitchen. Jo followed him, shuffling every once and a while to keep up with his long strides. I climbed the side stairs slowly, not sure I wanted to see the apartment. Not without him in it. I found the key in it's usual place, tucked inside a loose floorboard, and pushed the creaky door in.

It looked the same as always, clean to every last book on the shelf. I shut the door behind me, running my fingers across the spines of books before sitting on his bed feeling the sheets that had been involved in nights of sweat, torn clothes, and mussed hair. And who knew when that was going to happen again. I knew I was thinking the worst, but in my experience nothing had ever turned out for the better. Then I noticed the coffee table in front of the couch. It was messy. Practically every inch was covered in paper. My letters, to be precise. I sank onto the couch and flipped through all of them, probably over three hundred, trying to find anything that would explain why they were out or what had happened to Cas. But instead of focusing, I began reading the letters, reminiscing on what our relationship had been through. I'd thought we'd already put it to the ultimate test, but that was when, after two years, I didn't think my professional life would become involved. One went longer than a page and transferred to the back. But instead of reading the words, my eyes shifted downwards to a diagonal line scratched across the bottom. I proceeded to flip over all the letters, sorting them into lined and not lined. Once I'd done that, I placed the twenty or so letters in front of me, tossing the rest to the ground and started fiddling with them, trying to connect the lines. They had to connect, because I sure as hell hadn't drawn them. It wasn't long before I had it either. If I was honest, I'd always excelled at puzzles. Especially when it was life and death which is what this felt like. It spelled out the word CROW. Either Cas hadn't had time to finish or he was referring to the crow from his letter. I didn't know how either fit in with where he had gone but I was going to find out. I started running through names of people, creatures, and everything else I could think of in my head that had the word crow in them. I ran my fingers through my hair, frustrated that I was coming up blank. I had to know what this meant. Cas had left it for me, so he knew I could figure it out. Who did I know that hunted ruthlessly? Where no one ever escaped? That had to do with crows?

I sprinted down the stairs, prepared to ask Sam, when I knew. The knowledge threw me into a halt and I couldn't move. My brain hadn't been prepared for it. It was so obvious, so I knew that I had just pretended it wasn't an option, but it had to be. Crowley. Of course. We had to get to Bobby's. I didn't have anything for a summoning ritual with me.

"Sam, we're going!" I yelled, storming out of the diner.

"Dean," he said, streaking across the gravel after me, jerking his thumb back to the diner, "I didn't find anything. Did you find something? Or are you hurt?"

"My feelings are just fine. Thanks for asking," I said sarcastically, "It's Crowley. He has Cas. I don't know how Cas found out who Crowley was or that he was dangerous, but he did. And I guess Crowley's known about him for some time. He wants something, Sam. And he figured out I had an attachment. We don't have attachments for a reason, Sam! I fucked up. Why did I ever do this? Now he's just gonna end up dead and it'll be my fault. I knew it was a bad idea from the start but I did it anyways. That's not me, man. I don't let emotions get in the way. That's why I'm so good at what I do."

"So what are you going to do?"

"Well, I got involved. I developed an attachment and there's no way in hell I would ever desert him when the going gets rough. We're going to Bobby's, summoning that son of a bitch and getting him to tell us where Cas is. I swear to God."

"Okay," Sam said. "You okay to drive?"

"Yes," I sneered, ripping the keys from his hand.

We got to Bobby's two days later and by then I was a nervous wreck. Sam was driving and I was pretending I didn't need the bottle of whiskey that I'd started carrying with me. I would sneak drinks when I thought Sam wasn't looking, but let's be honest he knew. How could someone not notice the amber line dropping farther and farther down the bottle?

Bobby opened the door, we exchanged hugs, and then I filled Bobby in from start to finish. Every little detail. The great thing was he never judged, not once. He just nodded, accepted it as fact and moved on. The tiny family I had built was the greatest.

"You boys know I'm not big on summoning the likes of Crowley into my home. He is one nasty son of a bitch."

"I know, but we need him," I demanded.

"Okay. I'll go start drawing a devil's trap. On the table over there is the incantation and the ingredients. You should be able to find them in my desk or around the library somewhere. When you're done come down to the shelter and I should be ready."

I grabbed the book Bobby had motioned to, and flipped through the pages rapid quick, stopping whenever I saw the word demon. I finally found the summoning ritual and ordered Sam around until we had everything. Sam was so methodical and gentle in his searching that it took much longer than I wanted. Those precious seconds we lost could've made the difference between him being alive or dead. I would've just flipped tables and emptied drawers onto the ground until I'd found everything.

We gathered the ingredients in our arms and went down to the basement. I handed the book to Bobby and we laid the ingredients down on the ground, inside the devil's trap. Bobby organized them, lit some candles, smashed some of them, and placed them inside a shallow bowl. Then he lit the concoction on fire muttering a few choice words. Crowley was there practically instantaneously.

"Hello boys," he smiled. "Long time no see."

I was about to erupt which Sam must have sensed because he placed a hand on my chest and shook his head. "Let me and Bobby handle this," he whispered. "He'll just be unhelpful if he realizes just how much you care." I sulked off to the corner, leaning against a cement wall, and watched. I was prepared to jump into the conversation at any moment if I found it lacking in speed or content.

"What did you do to Cas?" Sam asked with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Moose!" Crowly cried, "Aren't you going to say hello?"

Sam rolled his eyes and shot Crowley a bitch face. "Hi, Crowley."

He smiled, rocking back on his heels with his hands in his suit pocket. "Cas. I don't believe I know a Cas."

"Don't lie. Please don't lie," Sam said.

"Honest. I don't."

"He'd have blue eyes, be almost six feet, a five-a-clock shadow, you might've found him somewhere around a diner with his name on it. Pretty good cook," I chimed in, sauntering forward until I was just outside the trap. "Come on you useless sack of dicks. I know you know who I'm talking about. You were a regular at his restaurant, because you figured out that I'd been seeing him more often then anybody else I'd ever met. So the real question at this point is what do you want?"

"He was clever that one. Figured out who I was pretty quick. Of course, I figured you wouldn't have told him seeing as you never break the family secret," he pouted. "I don't want anything. I just wanted to watch you squirm, Dean. I can't have a little revenge?"

"You've had it. Give him back," I growled.

"Can't. He's dead."

Sam lowered his head as though he believed every word. I had to admit it wouldn't be strange if that was the case but I wasn't going to believe it, not ever. I would know if he was gone. Wouldn't I?

"You're lying."

"Sorry, Dean. Want proof? I think I've got a picture on my phone. It's in one of these goddamn pockets," he whispered, rifling through each pocket one by one until he smiled and tugged out his phone, waggling it between his fingers. "Here we are." He swiped across the screen a couple of times with his index finger before lifting it up to my face. It was definitely Cas, and he appeared knocked out and was definitely bleeding everywhere.

"That's not proof. I don't believe you!" I yelled. "I don't believe you!" Sam pulled me back from Crowley and led me to the back of basement while Bobby whispered something to Crowley. "Dean," he said, "We'll look for him. But this is Crowley. You have to be prepared for the possibility that maybe he's...dead."

"I can't, Sam. Because if I did, I wouldn't want to continue living. If I can't protect the people I love, what's the point? That's my job. And if I can't do my job right, I might as well not do it."

"We'll try, Dean. We won't sleep until we're sure either way. I promise."

"Okay," I whispered. "But not until I make that son of a bitch pay."

"Dean," Sam groaned, reaching for my arm. I pulled away and Sam began to panic. "Bobby, grab Dean. He's going to do something he'll regret."

"Like hell," I said. "Get out of my way, Bobby." He conceded the space without argument and Sam glared at him. "You gotta let him do his thing, Sam," he whispered.

I picked up a carton of holy water and dumped it on his head. Crowley's screams could probably be heard all across town and I couldn't help the sick smile that surfaced. I cut practically every inch of his skin with the demon blade and reveled in his moans. "Give me one reason I shouldn't plunge this blade through your heart."

"You loved him, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Something like that. A reason, Crowley. Or your just as dead as you say he is."

"Dean? Gay?" he laughed hysterically and I waited patiently with a half-grin on my face until he was done, a curious look on his face. "Why are you smiling?"

"Because at least someone loves me."

Crowley frowned and finally answered my question, "You shouldn't kill me because the heir to my throne down in hell is twenty times worse than I am. She won't be as easy on you two as I've been. And because Cas wouldn't want you too."

"You don't know anything. You didn't know him!"

"I have a general idea of the type of people you like, Dean. Besides, I did talk to him quite a bit. Anyways, they're generally very good people. And good people don't usually wish death on anyone. Doesn't matter who. Doesn't matter what they've done. And in this case, especially, he wouldn't want you to kill someone out of spite and revenge."

I plunged the knife through his arm and shook my head. "You're right. He wouldn't. I'm not going to kill you. But I'll have you know if he is actually dead you are next on my hit list. And I never let a target get away from me. Ever. If he's dead, he won't know. And damn, would it make me feel better." I retracted the knife from his flesh and scratched open the devil's trap. "Get out of here," I growled. And in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Fine." I stomped upstairs, grabbed a bottle of whiskey from Bobby's kitchen and poured a glass. I took a sip as I sat down in one of the shabby kitchen chairs and stared at the wall. He couldn't be dead was all I could think. No other thought was crossing my mind until the bottle was practically empty and I realized he very well could be. A tear slid from my left eye, down my cheek and I didn't have the will to wipe it away. Not even when Sam came in and sat across from me without a word. I couldn't remember the last time Crowley lied about something so serious. So big. He just didn't. The first person who'd made me feel hope in my entire life was gone and I wasn't going to find another one of him ever again. I would never love again. And that realization burned. My chest felt like it was dealing with the flu, in subzero degree weather. It was a gaping hole of hurt.

"Anything I can do, Dean?" Sam said.

I shook my head and took yet another sip of whiskey. "What am I supposed to do now Sam?"

"Move on, Dean. But it takes time."

"How?"

"You're asking me for advice? About feelings?" he teased lightly.

"Dammit, Sam. Don't make me kill you."

"Go through the letters. Read them. And then burn them."

I stood, stumbled to my car, took every single letter I could possibly find from my car and dumped them on the kitchen table. I opened the one on top and read. I read most of the night until I reached the last letter Cas had ever written. My chest was throbbing. I knew it was just my heart beating, but I wasn't convinced I even had one anymore. I unfolded it and read every word five times. I was about to add it to the fire with all the others but my eyes flitted back to the words 'sunnyside up'. Not in any world would Cas have ever wrote that and yet he did. The rest of his letter made sense so far but that didn't. What did Crowley say? That Cas was clever. That he knew who he was much quicker than anticipated. And Jo said he left work early one day. He wasn't taken or abducted, he left of his own free will. My mind was racing now and the pain in my chest was slowly subsiding. I wasn't entirely sure what my brain was about to discover but my body did. And it was telling me Cas was perfectly alright. Sunnyside up, sunnyside up, what did that mean?

I slipped into the library where Sam was sleeping on the couch and grabbed his computer from beside him. He must've been researching before bed. I tiptoed back to the kitchen and flipped it open, typed in the password, and brought google up on the screen. I clicked on the maps tab and typed in the words sunnyside and oregon. He wouldn't have been able to run far with such little time. The choices beneath were nonexistent beside one that mentioned a state park in the eastern part of the state called Sunnyside. Spelled as one word. He'd had this planned. Cas was clever. If only I could rub it in Crowley's face. That I knew he lied.

"Sam," I said, shaking his wide shoulders, "Sammy. Wake up."

His eyes crinkled open and he blinked lethargically, glancing up at my face. "Seriously, Dean? I'm trying to sleep."

"It's important."

"Right," he whispered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What's up?"

"Did you know there's a state park in Oregon called Sunnyside?"

"No, I didn't. What's with the early morning trivia, Dean? I really don't care and I really don't want to play."

"Sunnyside, Sam! The eggs."

"The letter. You think he got away and went to the state park, don't you? Dean, how would he have known what Crowley would've tried? Or when he would? How did he know he'd be safer out there? Why wouldn't he tell you? It doesn't make sense Dean. I'm sorry to break it to you but I think you're just using every excuse to give yourself a reason for why he should be alive."

"There's no such thing as coincidences, Sam. Come on, we know that better than anyone. He's there. I know it."

"No, he's not."

"Whatever. I'm going to go check it out. Are you gonna come with me?"

"You're going right now?" Sam asked.

I nodded, dangling my keys from my fingers. "Yes I am."

"No, Dean, I won't. I'm sorry but I can't encourage this."

"Fine. Call me whenever you change locations so I know where you are. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay. Be careful. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Yeah, Sammy, you can." When I was outside in my car I slammed fists up against the wheel and whispered, "That damn selfish son of a bitch. He can't encourage it," I imitated, "Why doesn't he believe me?"

I drove without sleep for a couple of days. I wasn't sure how long because I was barely keeping track of the actual act of driving let alone whether it was night or day. My eyes were just glued to the road and my mind was focused on the soul thought of getting to Sunnyside state park and verifying my theory. Every once and a while my thoughts would stray from the determination to Cas' voice and eyes. At that point all I could hope for was a miracle. That he wasn't dead. For once in my life, I deserved a miracle. Anyways, every once and a while I managed a break as an occasional five minute nap when I was waiting for my tank to fill at the gas station.

When I arrived, dressed as an Oregon park ranger outfit from my trunk, badge and all, I got permission to wander the park in search of a black bear I suspected was in the camping section of the park and tranquilize it before it hurt anybody. They didn't need to know that I'd made that up entirely on the spot. It was lucky that Oregon seemed to be a hub for Supernatural activity and that Sam and I had been out her a lot. I got the Oregon park ranger outfit when we had been hunting a Wendigo. I wandered the park, eating power bars and bananas all day without any sign of Cas or even human habitation. I suppose I should've started in the camping section but I couldn't imagine Cas chilling out with people after what he'd experienced. Whatever he had experience. I suppose at this point, I didn't know. But I did know, he'd be too worried that someone was going to betray him. No, he was alone. I slept under the stars that night, with my gun beside me and my jacket across my legs, my arms as my pillow. Another day passed of searching with no results and the hope was disappearing and my confidence deflating, but I wasn't going to quit until my footprints had made a mark on every last speck of dirt in this place. There were still two corners of the park left that I hadn't been in. I went with the left one because I remembered Cas telling me he liked left better than right. And I can't believe he wanted anybody but me to find him. Someone that knew him better than anyone else. Today was much hotter, and I stripped down until I was in just a white tank top and my boxers. I was working too hard to be uncomfortable. I wiped sweat from my brow almost as often as I blinked by the time I noticed a small trailer beside a burned out fire surrounded by an almost perfect circle of trees. They were so close together that if it had been night I wouldn't have noticed the pale blue fabric of drapes peeking through. My heart soared. It was him. It had to be.

"Cas!" I yelled, my voice crackling slightly from not being used recently. "Cas, it's me."

I knelt down beside the door of the trailer, suspecting that he thought it was some sort of trick to draw him out. I wasn't going to scare him by just popping in so I hovered my lips over the silky mesh sheen of fabric that made up the entrance and whispered, "You're favorite movie is Breakfast at Tiffany's which embarrasses you so instead you say The Godfather is. You love to read and you own a little diner that I was convinced was crap until I tried the food and you wrote words on my plate in whipped cream. Everyone knew I loved you before I did and you love it when I kiss your temple. We wrote letters instead of phone calls and you wrote once that the CD you listened too every time you missed me was one of Billy Joel's. I love you, Cas. I love you."

"Dean?" A voice murmured from the darkness and one of his hands, dirt underneath his fingernails, popped open the door.

 

"You got some dirt underneath those fingernails, buddy," I said as I entered his trailer. Cas brought them under his eyes and shrugged noncommittally before sinking onto a pale green chair with holes littered across the armrests. On the table beside him there was a bottle of whiskey, at least it was a good one, and one of my letters. The only one he must've kept. Clothing was strewn across the back where a twin bed was sitting sideways against the wall. Dishes overflowed the sink and the trash can was overflowing with cans of soup. He wasn't even cooking for himself. When I focused my attention back to him with what I was sure was complete and utter surprise, I noticed he was growing a beard and he looked exhausted. The sheets on his bed were wrapped around each other, like they'd been slept in but it was as though Cas hadn't slept the entire time he'd been gone. He was either having some sort of serious breakdown or he'd already had it and decided to quit living. I knelt down in front of him, kissed his cheek and smiled grasping his hands. He didn't squeeze back like he normally did.

"I'm gonna go outside for a sec. I'll be back in a jiffy. Don't move," I said and stepped out of the trailer, the door swinging shut behind me. He was fucked up. I didn't know what I could do, but I wasn't going to leave him, so I was just going to have to make it up as I go. I tugged my phone from my pocket, practically dropping it when I finally wrangled it from the hidden depths, and called Sam.

"Dean, hey. I just wanted to say, you know now that you've called me, that..."

"I know. You don't have to say sorry. I understand why you said what you did. Listen, I won't be seeing you for a while. Cas is alive but he's sure as hell not kicking. I don't know what's wrong or what I can do about it. He might be permanently broken, man. I still have to figure out what happened. All of it."

"Just show him how much you love him and it'll turn out fine, Dean. And I'm glad he's okay."

"I don't know if that'll be enough. This isn't a fairytale."

"I'm aware. Well, take all the time you need. I'll be fine. Check in occasionally though, yeah?"

"You got it," I sighed, before hanging up. I didn't want to be harsh to Cas, but he was so vacant, so completely out of it, I wasn't sure how else to get the information I needed. I strolled back in and knelt before him once again. I laid a hand on his cheek and he almost flinched away. It hurt but I wasn't going to get angry until I knew why. I had a feeling it wasn't about me. Better approach this carefully.

"You've been gone for, oh, eight days. Last time I checked in on your diner, Jo was running it entirely by herself and she's determined to continue doing so. I've been kind of going insane but thanks for letting me in on where you are. I'm not sure what you've gone through, but I want you to know I'm not leaving you. You won't ever feel alone again. Or scared, if I have something to do about it," I paused, taking a deep breath. "Are you up to telling me what happened?"

Cas turned his head away to look out the only window. His eyes stayed there for god knows how long and he didn't say a word.

"Cas?"

"Dean," he whispered, still not meeting my eyes, "I'm not sure I can do this anymore."

I wasn't thick, and I wasn't going to act like it either. I knew perfectly well what he was trying to say, but I wasn't okay with it. By any means.

"After everything, you're done?" I whispered. "After all the shit I've done for you. All you've done for me? You know what, Cas," I yelled, "You don't get to quit. At this relationship, at life, at anything. Sure, you went through something and it was awful, life-altering apparently. But it doesn't mean people don't care about you. That you should give up someone you love because you can't go through it again. What we have is worth fighting for and I'm gonna keep fighting even if you're not. But don't you dare say those words again at least not when I'm around or you very well might lose me. You might not think that's such a bad thing now, but you will. And you know why? Because I know how you feel about me, you bastard and you will regret it for the rest of your life if you fuck this up. What we have is forever, Cas. It's real. You're the one. So maybe you should let me know what the hell is going on so I can help."

He kept gazing out the window, but I did notice his fingers clench into the chair and his neck twitching. He was fighting the urge to look at me. At least he wasn't as far gone as I thought he was moments before. I had been right. It wasn't me. It was all about what had happened. Something or someone had convinced him we weren't right for each other. Convinced him as in brainwashed him. I flung the door to the trailer wide once again and stomped out, my heart racing, and my head on the verge of exploding. I hadn't ever been this angry with him. Ever. I sat beside the trailer, resting my head back on it, and fumed. I kept fuming most of the night. I was so angry I was worried I was going to go in there and tell him it was over, which was not at all what I wanted. When I'd finally calmed down and put myself in his shoes as best as I could, I went back in to find him asleep in his chair.

"Don't stress yourself out, Cas," I growled quietly before lifting him in my arms and carrying him over to the twin bed. I wrestled his shoes off of his feet and flung them across the floor. That would have to do for the time being. I wrangled the blankets from underneath his weight and laid them gently over his body up to the middle of his chest. I kissed him once on the forehead and whispered, "I forgive you, buddy. But, please, tell me what I can do. Tell me what's wrong." I stood and peered around the cluttered, dusty trailer. I was strangely uncomfortable with the uncleanliness. And I knew somewhere down deep in his brain he did too. He was just too busy focusing on other thoughts. So I gathered up all the clothes and threw them into a neat pile in the sort of closet in the back. I washed all the dishes by hand and put them back in the cupboards. I had no idea where they were supposed to go so I kind of just made it up. I sorted through all the garbage, sifting cans into a separate bag so they could be recycled. Then I threw both the bags over my bag and did the hour hike back to the campground where they had two huge dumpsters and tossed the bags in before making the hike back in the pitch black. It took a lot longer. I got lost at least three times and I think I must've circled the trailer multiple times. I only found it again because I practically ran into it, literally. I crashed into the same chair that Cas had been sleeping in earlier and fell asleep hoping that tomorrow, maybe just maybe, Cas would be willing to say something.

When I woke up, my neck and back in serious pain from being cramped into one position the entire night, I realized Cas wasn't up yet. He was still asleep in the back. I went to him and practically laughed at his peaceful face. The fact that in some state he was happy made me more confident that bringing him back to me wouldn't be so difficult. So I opened his mine fridge and pulled out the carton of eggs that were probably spoiled and cracked five of them into a bowl. They looked and smelled fine so I wasn't going to complain. I whisked them together with a fork and then poured them into a pan and placed it on the hot plate that Cas had set up. It wasn't exactly a perfect setup but it was going to work. I scrambled them together until they were extremely dry and poured all five eggs on to a plate. I shoved the little scraps left over in the pan into my mouth before strolling to Cas and giving him a light shove.

"Hey buddy, time to get up."

Cas rolled over, groaning, and stared blankly up at me. "I'm not hungry, Dean."

"You need to eat something. When was the last time you ate?"

"Uh..."

"Too long. You don't have any idea do you?" I chastised him. "Sit up."

Cas did, albeit ridiculously slowly, and most likely reluctantly. I had a hard time remembering what I was trying to do when the blankets slipped away and his bare chest came into view. My hand was tingling at the thought of running kisses up and down his skin. Cas had to snap in my face to wrangle me out of my distraction.

"Are we doing something here, or should I get dressed?"

"We're feeding you," I demanded, back on track. I gathered some of the eggs together on the fork and brought it to Cas' mouth. He stubbornly kept his mouth firmly closed, so I prodded them with the sharp tongs of the fork until he opened them. I quickly shoved the eggs home and got ready for another bite in which he was being stubborn once again. It was like feeding a two year old.

"Can't we do this like grown up's Cas?"

"I don't want to eat."

"Fine," I moaned, continuing the painstaking ritual.

When the plate was clean after around thirty minutes, I stood and went back to the kitchen to soap down the plate and put it away. Cas came stumbling out, with a shirt on now, and peered around his makeshift home.

"You cleaned," he whispered.

"Is that alright?"

"I suppose. I didn't even realize how messy it was in here. That's usually kind of a big deal for me."

"Yeah, it is."

"Why are you still here, Dean?"

"You already know the answer to that, man. The question is why haven't you been cleaning? Why haven't you shaved that god awful beard? Why haven't you been eating? What the hell happened? I'm not going to stop asking for one second until you tell me so I'd just get it over with."

"I'd rather not do that now," he sighed, sinking into his chair. He was practically an extension of it now.

"Alright, we'll work on the less important stuff first then. You need a shower and a shave. You're as dirty as the chair you're sitting on and it looks as though it was outside, deserted, on the street for over a week. Which, I guess is kind of an accurate description of you. Come on," I said, gripping him by his arms, "To the shower."

Cas didn't protest. We got to the cramped bathroom with the tiny shower, that probably could barely hold one of us, and I pulled off his shirt and boxers, leaving him naked as a new born baby. The first thought I had was how great sex in a cramped shower would be, but I cast the thought aside because what I was doing was about Cas and what he needed. Not what I needed. So I kept my clothes on as I turned on the water which unfortunately wasn't going to be hot and forced Cas inside. He inhaled sharply at the cool water hitting his skin and automatically wanted out but I managed to keep him inside the shower until he was used to the temperature. Then I stepped in with him, my clothes still on and getting wet, poured almost my entire hand worth of shampoo into my palm and ran it through his hair, scrubbing furiously. The soapy suds weren't catching well because of all the grime but I kept at it, rinsing and re-applying until his head was basically white foamy bubbles. I followed up with some conditioner, figuring he hadn't been anywhere near any in a while and then rinsed that out. All that was left was the soap. So I grabbed the entire bar and ran it down his spine, butt cheeks, and legs, before setting it down and gently rubbing circles out everywhere the soap had touched. I expected Cas to kind of freak out, especially when I moved the front and was massaging the very tops of his thighs but he remained calm with the same far away expression. It was majorly disconcerting. When I was finished, I kissed his neck, turned off the water and handed him a towel. He held it limply in his hands, just standing there, so I rolled my eyes, ripped the towel from him and dried him off.

"Okay, time to shave. Are you capable of putting clothes on?"

Cas nodded and I practically jumped up and down with joy. I wasn't sure he could complete any task at all as of now. "Well good," I said, "Because I need some clothes and I'll take whatever you got."

Cas opened up the closet and tossed to me a shirt and some boxers. I wouldn't have minded a pair of jeans but I wasn't going to protest. I stripped down, laying the clothes out on the ground to dry and glanced over at Cas to see him watching me.

"See something you like?" I laughed.

Cas blushed and refocused on the clothes he was trying to put on his own back. A small smile crossed my face. Maybe he didn't realize how much he needed me right now but I could tell his subconscious knew. I pulled on the shirt and boxers before grabbing Cas' hand and tugging him back to his chair. I was surprised when he didn't sit down into it. He just gazed at it with a sort of grotesque expression on his face. He was disturbed by how dirty it was, now that he was clean. And it was then I began glimpsing the Cas I loved. I grabbed some towels and laid them down in the chair so Cas could sit, which he finally did. When I'd fetched the towels I'd also grabbed his shaving cream and razor so I could set to work. I lathered his face in the cream and offered him the razor first. But when he shook his head, as I suspected he would, I set to work. I gently held his face steady and ran the razor over his skin. I didn't press all that hard so there would be traces of the beard still left, leaving his classic five-a-clock shadow. When I moved to his neck, I put a finger beneath his chin, and lifted his head up until his neck was deliciously accessible. I had to keep reminding myself to focus on the job at hand or I was going to nick him. When I was finished and had washed the razor off, I came back with a small hand towel to get rid of the remaining dots of shaving cream. I wiped them off, his neck last and gave a lingering open mouth kiss on his neck when I was finished. I didn't need him returning the favor but I found myself needing some semblance of physical contact every once and a while. I missed him.

"Ready to talk?" I asked.

Cas paused but I could see in his eyes he felt guilty because he knew that he owed me something.

"Ever since you'd told me what you did, I'd been doing a little of my own research," he began in a soft voice, his eyes downcast, "And a lot of what discovered mentioned you and your brother and someone named Crowley; the king of hell. The only characteristic anybody described was his british accent, like that was all they remembered. And then that regular came. He had a british accent but I wasn't paranoid by that point. Not until he came in every day for really long extended periods of time and asking me kind of personal questions. Eventually, I'd had enough. I was sure it was Crowley. I didn't have proof but that didn't matter much because in almost all the stories about Crowley, his targets ended up dead so..." he trailed off.

"Anyways, I ran. But he caught up with me. He said he wanted revenge on you. That was all he would ever say when he was torturing me, locking me in a cell, starving me, you name it. Once he said he was going to break me, so that when you found me there would be nothing left. He did a pretty good job if you ask me. I'm never going through anything like that again and if that's what happens to people who love you, I'm done Dean. I can't go through pain like that ever again."

I ignored the last bit of his story completely. It wouldn't help to argue right now. "How'd you get away?"

"A girl named Anna. She busted up the window in my cell and I managed to climb out and crawl away. Then I came here because I felt like I owed that much to you. I should at least be where I said I would be."

"Thank you, Cas. Can you help me with something really quick?"

He said nothing but stood and put his hands in his pockets. I led him over to the fridge and pointed to the remaining food items in the cupboard. "I would really like something to eat since I haven't had anything today, but I don't know what you can make out of that. Mind telling me so I can whip something up for myself."

Cas nodded, pulled out green onions, cheddar cheese, a bag of potatoes and a carton of milk. "Mashed potatoes," he whispered.

"Great," I smiled, dumping the potatoes unceremoniously into the sink. I could feel him cringing just a bit and I smiled even bigger. That was the whole point after all. "Should I peel them?"

"No. The skin goes great with that type of potato."

"Got it." I pulled out a knife and waved it above one of the green onion stocks before bringing the knife down kind of diagonally on top of it, resulting in a thick, roughly sliced piece of onion. I did it again and again until I had an entire stock of green onion with none of the pieces near each other in size. I moved on to the next one but before I could make a cut I felt a hand stop me.

"Please just let me do it," Cas whispered, grimacing obviously.

"That bad, huh?" I laughed.

"Yeah," Cas said. "That was truly horrible," he half-laughed.

"Want me to start of chopping up the potatoes? Grating the cheese?"

"Why don't you just sit down and read a book or something. I'll have this done much faster without you." And Cas set to work sharpening up the onion slices I'd already cut and slicing up the rest.

"You have books around here?"

"Yeah, they're in a box in the back. I haven't opened it yet but there are some good ones. Actually, I don't even know what I brought," he realized, more to himself. I couldn't stop smiling as I went back, popped off the lid, and grabbed A Tale of Two Cities, his favorite book. I just knew he would bring it. The one I bought him. It was some really old fancy edition worth a shit-ton of money, but his reaction had been worth it. I seem to remember him literally crying with joy and surprise. I gingerly lifted the cover to see a scribbled note I'd written him for his birthday. I strolled back and sat in his now towel laden chair and cracked the book open. I started at the beginning and it reminded me why I couldn't stand Dickens. So I skipped to the end because that was the good part. Cas peered over at me as he was grating the cheddar cheese and I noticed with my peripheral vision his eyes widen and tear up just slightly before he shook his head and focused once more on the brainless task he was doing.

Thirty pages of A Tale of Two Cities later, Cas brought me a plate piled with potatoes. "You got the serving right," I grinned, digging in. Cas smiled gently and tugged the book out of my grip. "Can't have that getting dirty," he whispered. He brushed down the cover, even though nothing was on it, and reverently placed it on a table beside the counter. He joined me, with a small plate himself, just across from me on the floor. I gazed at him and laughed.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just how you're holding your fork. That's the, I just cooked the worst meal of all time, so much so that I can't even eat it myself, position. You held it that way once when you were out of cream and had to replace it with milk in your alfredo you made for me once."

"I don't have much to work with," he defended himself.

"I suppose not. I think it tastes pretty good," I mumbled around a mouthful of relatively creamy potatoes.

"You think everything tastes good as long as it's food. You aren't that hard to please, Dean."

Then it was like he caught himself having fun or something because he mellowed down and returned to his seemingly perpetual state of not talking. Or even looking at me.

"That's true. So what's the plan for the rest of the evening?"

Cas shook his head.

"I was thinking we could play a game of war or speed. I have a deck of cards and we have nothing better to do." I didn't expect him to respond and he didn't, but I took that as a good sign. He wasn't trying to stop me from sticking around.

"Great," I grinned. I took his empty plate from him, washed them, then sat down on the floor barely a foot away from him, our feet almost touching, and pulled out the deck of cards I was carrying with me for some reason, from my jacket pocket. I dealt out two piles and flipped over my top card. It was a queen.

"Ha. I almost definitely win this one."

Cas rolled his eyes and laid down a five. "Got a crappy card though, in the process."

I was appealing to all sides of this guy. I'd tapped into his creative, culinary, and now competitive side. I was making sure he remembered who he really was.

We battled through each other's hands until I was on the edge of defeat with all of my aces again and only one face card. That was pretty much a death sentence. So I casually reached over to the pile of cards not in Cas' hands, that would be part of his new deck once he ran out and snagged them all. Cas glanced up and slapped my hand just as it was making it's get away. I lost a couple of cards but brought the remainder up to my chest and clung to them tightly.

"Give them back, Dean. I'm going to win."

"Haha. Yeah, sure. Come and get them."

Cas sat there awkwardly, a hint of fear behind his eyes like I was going to break him into millions of pieces if he touched me, which to be honest, is probably what he thought would happen. At least, if he realized how deeply in love with me he really was. I waggled a finger at him and tossed one of his cards, hitting him directly in the forehead. He shook his head, laughing, and tackled me to the ground, his fingers trying to wrench mine from his cards. He managed to get all of them out eventually and when slid off of me and poured over his cards to make sure all of his aces were intact, I snaked my head over and pecked him on the lips. He studiously ignored him but I noticed a small smile creep across his face before he smacked it back down like it was some evil monster.

"Ha, I won," he declared, as one of his hard won aces took my king.

"If you say so. Kind of an unfair draw. I mean, come on, you started with three aces in the beginning. Hardly much of a win."

"You are so irritating."

"I know," I smiled. I stood, kicking the cards in the same general vicinity and walked over to the counter where a very old boom box and a stack of CD's was sitting. "What do we got over here?" I whispered, thumbing through the cases. Cas picked up all the cards and I couldn't help noticing he ordered them so they were all facing the same way, and with the picture matching the one before.

I didn't know or particularly like any of the artists in his stack so I turned my head to stare at him and asked, "What's good?"

"Play Ed Sheeran. Jo introduced me to him and he's actually not half-bad."

I shrugged and clicked the CD out from it's electric orange case, placed it in the player, and pressed play before sitting back down across from him and waiting for the music to start. It started with an almost lullaby-like chords with some beat and an almost angelic voice settled in. I figured out half way through that he was singing about a prostitute.

"Wow, he starts off nice and serious doesn't he?"

"Not my favorite. Seriously, give him a chance. He has some really good ones."

So we just sat there in silence listening to kind of a girly voice. It definitely wasn't my sort of thing but it was kind of soothing; relaxing. Cas was definitely relaxed. More than I'd seen him the entire time I'd been here. His head was leaning against a chair, his foot was tapping to the beats, and he would occasionally mouth the words.

"This is it," he whispered, already smiling.

"What?"

"My favorite song."

"What's it called?"

"Kiss me."

It was just too perfect. I wasn't going to ignore this opportunity. I strolled over to the boom box and blasted it all the way up so that both Cas and I had to cover our ears.

"What are you doing Dean?" he yelled.

"Come on!" I held out my hand to Cas, who paused for a couple of seconds before accepting, and I led him outside. As I suspected you could hear the music perfectly from outside the trailer and I pulled Cas in close, stringing one arm around the small of his back and the other entwined with his hand.

"You're not really the dancing type."

"Just shut up and dance with me," I whispered, gazing up at the stars. Cas shuffled his feet around with mine, which was better than making me drag him around so I was mostly happy. But he didn't seem into it. So once it got to the chorus again and I sort of knew the words, I brought my lips to his ear.

"So kiss me like you want to be loved. Want to be loved. Want to be loved. This is...I mean feels," I recovered, "Like falling in love. Falling in love. Falling in love."

Cas' eyes met mine, the blue piercing straight through me, and he smiled gently. It felt like he was killing me kindly. He rested his chin over my shoulder and stepped much closer simply swaying with me. "Dean, I..." he whispered.

"Shh. I don't want to know. Not right now, okay?" And that shut him up.

When the song was over and another one started up, which sounded like it wouldn't be bad for dancing either, I turned to Cas, releasing him and held out my hands in front of me.

"What?" he asked.

"We're going to rock, paper, scissors for whoever goes back in there to turn down the music. I'm not really into having my eardrums blasted again."

"This is all your fault," Cas argued, "You should have to go do it."

I tenaciously kept my hands out and Cas rolled his eyes, bringing his hands level. He brought out rock the same time I did scissors. "Ha," he laughed, "It's all you."

"Sam told you, didn't he?"

"What?" Cas said innocently.

"That I always choose scissors."

"He might've mentioned it."

I shook my head and darted towards the trailer, my ears entirely covered by my hands. I turned the knob to the left, not worried about how far, and when I uncovered my ears, it was barely above a whisper. So I pushed the knob up slightly more and turned to see Cas was already in the trailer, fingering the copy of A Tale of Two Cities. I fake yawned and said, "I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Mind if I grab the bed? You can wake me up when you want it back."

Cas nodded absentmindedly and I shrugged off my shirt and climbed under the covers. I wasn't particularly tired but I wanted to give him some time alone to think. Mull everything that happened today over. So I just laid there, staring up at the pitch black ceiling and waited for sleep to take over. Which apparently it did because when I woke up, the whole trailer was flooded in light and I was scrunched to the side of the bed and it felt like I was between two walls. I almost panicked until I felt one of the walls chest rise and fall. Cas was in bed with me, curled into my chest. He barely fit on the bed but he looked comfortable. Unfortunately, it meant I couldn't get out of bed. On the other hand the man I was in love with was in bed with me. And I could watch him sleep all day. I gently stroked his hair as I waited for him to wake up. When he finally did, he flushed when he saw me staring down at him, and leapt out of the bed. "I'm sorry," he said. "You must've been way overcrowded. It's just the chair was kind of unappealing and I didn't want to wake you."

"Cas," I laughed, stumbling out of bed with him and mussing up my hair, "It's okay, buddy. I love you, remember? This sort of thing doesn't disturb me in any way, shape or form. What were you even doing last night?"

"Reading."

"What's for breakfast?" I asked.

"Well, we don't have much left to cook with to be honest, so, nothing."

"Then maybe we should exit the trailer and go find a place to eat."

Cas shook his head furiously and walked away, as though he was running, and shut the bathroom door behind him. He was terrified of Crowley. And I wasn't sure how I was going to convince him it would all be okay because I didn't even know whether it actually would be.

"Cas!" I yelled into the trailer when I returned with a couple of bags of groceries. I'd tried to convince him to go with me for about an hour but he still wouldn't go for it. "Want to help me unpack these?"

Cas wandered out from the bedroom his hair mussed and his hand over his gaping mouth.

"Did you seriously sleep some more?"

"I was tired."

"No you weren't. You just had nothing better to do. That or you think sleep is better than being awake because Crowley can't get to you; the monsters can't get to you. I hate to break it to you, Cas, but that's just how your life is going to be so maybe you should accept it and try to do something about it."

Cas glared at me and silently shoved my hands away as he started unpacking the bags. I realized I might have been a little bit harsh but eventually this guy just needed to get with the program. I loved him, and I didn't want to push him but he had to understand that living out here for the rest of his life just wasn't an option.

"Yes it is," Cas whispered.

"Huh?"

"I saw your face. It was your this guy has no idea what the fuck he's doing look. But I can live here for a very long time if I have to. I know you better than anyone else too."

"I would agree, Cas, except for the fact that you aren't willing to leave this trailer and you can't get any food or water without me. What if I leave?"

Cas said nothing and I flopped into one of his chairs gracelessly. I watched him flit around the kitchen area placing food in the exactly right places he liked them. "Not gonna call my bluff then, I take it?" Cas didn't say a word. "Dude, talk to me."

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" he sighed.

"Anything!" I yelled, "That you love me, that you would like some fucking awesome make up sex, that your favorite color is blue, that President Obama is the best. I don't care. Just say something besides what, when, Dean, yes, or no."

"That's not fair," he mumbled.

"What did you say?" I said.

"Nothing."

"Jesus christ. You can't even defend yourself. What the hell happened Cas?"

It was a rhetorical question because I was almost one hundred percent positive he wouldn't answer me but he slowly sank onto the ground, not in a chair, but on the hard floor and put his head in his hands, before rubbing his temples and glancing up from under his lashes.

"I don't know, Dean. That's the problem. Crowley and I had been chatting over the bar, it was one of our usual conversations, when all of a sudden two really big guys came in, knocked Jo out, who managed to scare one with water which was weird, anyways, and carried me away. I was struggling and when I tilted my head back to look at my diner Crowley was smiling like the cheshire cat from Alice and Wonderland. I was subsequently knocked out somehow and woke up in an abandoned underground dungeon. The were stairs up to another level but the door was locked. And he kept me in there without much food or water and very little human contact. He'd only come in once a day to tell me that he almost had you. That you were very soon to be dead. And the day he released me he told me that you were dead. That you'd shown up at the agreed upon meeting place to give anything to get me back and that he'd killed you. So obviously, when you showed up here I was very surprised. But luckily you weren't dead and I'd had the foresight to leave you some clues because there had been a couple of times I would've sworn his eyes turned black and you told me to be on a lookout for those sorts of things. The only problem is I had no idea what he wanted or what he was going to do. He broke down all my walls, Dean. I was no longer in control of anything and it terrified me. I mean, I couldn't even think straight. It all became instinct. So when he released me I ran. As far as I could. And all I could think was I can't go through something like that ever again."

"You won't have to," I declared.

"You can't promise that, Dean. Not even you."

"Do you love me Cas?" I whispered. I was actually not entirely sure I wanted the answer because I wasn't confident that it would be yes.

"Of course, Dean," he sighed.

"Why do you make it sound like a chore?"

"Because maybe it is!" Cas yelled.

"A reaction," I said, impressed. He was fighting back.

Cas threw his hands in the air and shot me the evil eye. "You can't even be serious! Don't you realize what's happened to me? Don't you understand that this isn't something you just rebound from."

"I do," I stated very seriously, gripping his face between my hands, forcing his eyes to meet mine. "My father died when I was in my twenties. My mom died when I wasn't even a teenager. Sam has died multiple times, been soulless, and we both started the apocalypse. I know what pain, and mental annihilation feels like. There were times when I didn't even want to be alive. No one, and I can say this confidently, has been what I've been through so don't pretend you've got it worse than me. I fought through which means you can too. You have to look for the silver linings in life, Cas, and you aren't going to find any out here and certainly not without me." And then I kissed him, hot and heavy, shoving him up against the trailer wall.

"Dean," he protested against my lips.

"Shh." I stopped attacking him and gently pressed my lips once more against him, just wringing my fingers gently through the trims of his hair. I pulled back and stared at him transferring all the love I felt for him through that look. "I love you. You love me. What's stopping you?"

"I'm scared. So scared. All of the time."

I grinned. "That's what a lot of life is. But how many times have you lost to that fear?"

"Never."

"That's right. You started your own diner in the middle of nowhere to follow your dream. You captured my attention fearlessly because you knew what you wanted. How much more terrifying is Crowley? Especially when I can protect you. And don't you miss your diner? Jo? Hell, Sam?"

He nodded grudgingly and I gripped his hand and kissed the palm. "Then what are we still doing here, Cas?"

Cas smiled for the first time in a very long time. I could see his skin stretching like the muscles weren't used to a movement which he'd probably overused just a couple of weeks ago. He kissed my cheek and collected everything he could gather into his arms and just walked out of the trailer into the pouring rain, a laugh perched on his lips.

"Are we just going to leave the trailer out here?" I asked.

"Yes," he declared.

"Fine by me." I gathered him into my arms, things and all, and ran to the Impala. Cas was laughing the whole way.

I called Sam on the drive back to the diner and he was beyond relieved to hear my voice. He was already driving to meet us back at the diner. I spent the entire car ride watching Cas stare out the window, smiling, like he'd just woken up from a year long nap, and pondered what exactly protecting him would entail. I knew whatever I said would go so it was a matter of picking the right things to say. The diner was all of a sudden in view much sooner than I would've thought and I noticed Cas tapping his finger on his leg and occasionally wriggling in his seat. My Cas was back.

Before the car even came to a stop on the gravel drive way Cas had hopped out and jumped the steps two at a time, flinging the diner door open. He hand't made it far inside judging by the fact that I could still see him when Jo appeared out of nowhere, catapulting Cas into a hug. They exchanged whispered words, both smiling and laughing and I jovially exited my car and walked up as well. Jo just nodded at me when I came in and I nodded back. Even though Jo had no idea what had happened she knew that I was the only reason Cas was back. She was a hunter after all.

Cas got right back to work. No hesitation. Jo resumed her old position and went home early because she'd practically been working non stop since Cas left. He told her she didn't have to come to work for a week but of course, she said she wouldn't miss it for the world and that there was no need to pay her any extra for the time he was gone. I had his signature apple pie, except this time it was the entire pie, I'd missed it so much. Cas didn't have to even ask he just knew. In whipping cream on the plate, he wrote, 'I love you :). You saved me.'

I was collapsed against the back of the booth, groaning and loosely gripping my stomach which was twisting and turning. I hadn't eaten that much in days. It wasn't use to the quantity. I heard the bell ring behind me, and on instinct I swiveled around to see Sam who grinned enthusiastically and stood in front of my booth. I slowly got up, complaining the entire way up, and flung my arms around his shoulders, slapping his back occasionally. Man, it was good to see him.

"Hey, brother."

"Hey, Dean."

"What were you doing while I was gone?"

"Hunting a spirit. She'd been beheading people by ripping their heads off."

"For once, man, I don't need the details."

"Right," he smiled. "Where's Cas?"

"Working."

"Good."

I nodded, slumping back into the squishy booth and said, "What should we do, Sammy? I've got to protect him. It's the only way he'll feel safe and I can't do that and hunting."

"We'll just have to tell him the basics, get him a tattoo, and a very different place to live."

"Yeah, that's all I could come up with."

"I'll leave that to you," Sam winked.

"Good god. I need a new brother."

"I think that all the time, and yet, look at us. We can't stay away."

I shook my head, smiling half heartedly and stood. "Want anything to eat or drink? I'm going back to the kitchen anyways. I can let Cas know."

"Sure. I'll have the fruit salad and a diet coke."

"You got it."

I ceremoniously flung open the swinging kitchen door and Cas flung his head around with a smile. "Hey Dean," he said. I strung my arms around his waist from behind and relaxed my head on his shoulder. I seductively whispered into his ear, "Sam wants a fruit salad and some diet coke."

"That wasn't remotely sexual," he laughed.

"But it sounded sexual, didn't it?" I paused and then unwound myself from him. noticed Cas' expression mellow slightly and I smirked to myself. He whispered, "Did you really have to let go?"

"I have to talk to you about something kind of serious, and that would require focusing on the conversation and I'm not sure I could do that anywhere near you."

"Fair enough."

"You're going to have to move," I said bluntly. I thought I might as well just lay it out in front of him. "And you're going to have to get a tattoo which will most likely hurt. And you might have to take a day off from work so I'm confident in your abilities to protect yourself when I'm gone."

"You're still going to leave?"

"Yeah, Cas, it's what I do. If I stopped hunting I wouldn't know what to do with my life. But now I'll have a home. I'll stop by much more frequently."

"Good," he nodded. "And that's fine, Dean. I understand."

"Tomorrow, then? We'll just get it all done in one fell swoop. Sound good to you?"

"Mmm hmm," Cas murmured. The spatula he was using to cook the chopped chicken in his frying pan was hanging limply in his hand and his eyes were focused intently on my lips. They would occasionally move up to my eyes but not often enough.

"Got a hard on yet?" I asked, chortling.

Cas blushed and refocused on his chicken. "Shit," he whispered. He hurriedly removed the pan from the heat and swished the chicken around. Some of the sides were burned black. "I just feel like I haven't seen you, really seen you, for years."

"That's because you haven't. It was just days though."

"I'm so sorry, Dean."

"Cas, no, it's all good. I completely understand why you were like that. Anybody with half a brain or who doesn't live like me would react the same way. Probably worse, actually," I pondered more to myself.

"You know I love you, right?" he said seriously.

"Yeah. The whipped cream told me."

"Fuck you," Cas laughed, as I planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I'm gonna go back and join the real world," I whispered inches from his face and sweetly kissed him, reeling him in by the belt loop, before letting go seconds later and turning away towards the door. An almost wail escaped from Cas and I smiled to myself but didn't turn around. I didn't turn around because I knew if I did he would be there waiting for me. I didn't turn around because I kind of felt like being a dick, and I didn't turn around because I knew he'd follow me out. Maybe in seconds, minutes, hours, but he would come find me and for the first time in my life I wasn't going anywhere. Not for a while. And it felt incredible. I had a home. People always told me that love was the most powerful thing in the world, that you hadn't lived until it had happened to you. I always scoffed at them, more jealous than anything, but I just didn't ever believe it was in the cards for me. But they were right. Not because of the feeling, not because of the person even really. It was that being with them gave you so many things you'd never had before, some which you never even bothered to value, and that was the incredible thing about love. It doesn't take things away, like every other being in my life, it only gave. And Cas had been the one to give me everything that I had ever wanted and hadn't wanted.

"Dean, wait," I heard Cas say from behind me, in front of the entire restaurant. Apparently we were good at public scenes. Make that seconds by the way.

I turned to him gently pondering him. Cas grinned elatedly when my eyes met his and the words bubbling on the tips of his lips disappeared. We just stared.

"Did you want something?" I whispered, not really wanting to interrupt whatever was happening. Everyone in the diner was awkwardly glancing away and then bringing their eyes back, curious. I could tell they definitely thought they were interrupting something.

"Now. Let's just go now."

I comically jogged over to him, flipping him up into my arms for the second time within days and carried him out of the diner with my hand curled into a fist, raised above my head. I could hear Sam's bellowing laugh over the cacophony of applause and I delighted at the sound. Love only gives. It gave Sam laughter.

"Let's go get you that tattoo," I said, releasing Cas from my arms and into my Impala.

"That's not very sexual."

"Are you always thinking about sex? I'll give you a good time later. Right now, we're protecting you, idiot. Wasn't that kind of the whole condition for having a life again?"

"Doesn't seem so important now," he murmured.

"Good. But I can't lose you again, so we're just gonna take precautions anyways."

"I love you, Dean."

"I love you, too. Crazy isn't it?"

"That's the best kind of anything."

"Sure is," I said, resting my hand on his thigh as we drove down the highway in search of a tattoo parlor, a respectable one of course, simply glad that my hand could touch his thigh. You never realized what you had until it was gone. And you never appreciated it more once you got it back.


End file.
